


Carry The Ghost

by imaginedfables



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: F/M, Season 1 Canon Compliant, absolutely not for season 2, also known as that fic I promised myself I wouldn't write, baby gecko in the making, but still did, daily dose of angst with a happy ending, everyone is sort of really twisted, kate is not a happy camper, somewhere in the foreseeable future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-04-25 21:00:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 35,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4976392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginedfables/pseuds/imaginedfables
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This is what her beautiful life had come to. </p>
<p>Dirty bathrooms in broken backroads and trembling hands with dried blood caked underneath her fingernails. A bag full of stolen money that she’d trade without missing a beat if she could only have at least one member of her family there with her for her to take comfort in. A baby growing inside of her from a man she didn’t know where to find and wasn’t sure she really wanted to, anyways. She is three weeks shy of turning eighteen, her whole family is dead or out causing death, and the father of her child is a heroin-addicted criminal: a wanted fugitive. </p>
<p>Her mother was probably rolling over in her grave."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. burn like a holy fire

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the fantastic masterpiece that is Noah Gundersen's new album, Carry the Ghost.   
> Hope you guys enjoy!

Light me up again

If it makes you feel free

Light me up again

Call me a snake and a liar

And I will be the fire that keeps you warm

-Slow Dancer

...

She finds out eight weeks and four days after they split.

Well, no; not really, to be honest.

Kate thinks she might have known it since a few weeks before that; back when she and Ranger Gonzalez were in that abandoned _panaderia_ in the middle of nowhere, tracking down a lead that promised to get them one step closer to finding her brother.

There they were, covered in blood and grime and who knows what else after a fight that’d been over before it really started, standing in front of another hidden temple dedicated to Santanico by people who would never fully understand the monster they were praying to, when she’d been hit by need so gut-wrenching and intense to throw up the old coffee and greasy donuts she’d had for breakfast.

She’d known because it’d been a long time since she’d allowed herself to feel squeamish about anything. She’d had to toughen up; one couldn’t decide to dedicate their life to being a fucking _culebra slayer_ and still pale at the sight of blood. Not when your baby brother’s idea of a tantrum was to string up his old classmates like disposable puppets or when your almost-guardian was teaching you the fastest way to decapitate someone and how to perfect your aim and definitely not when the man who’d promised to protect you was spending all his free time shooting poison up his veins and dragging you from one hell-hole to the next.

Not when it’s your hand that’s pushing a stake right into your Daddy’s heart while his tormented eyes beg for forgiveness.

So, no; very few things still managed to bother her.

But the smell of stale beer…

Jesus Christ, she’d wished she could die.  

Things hadn’t gotten any better after that.

There’d been other signs, because when are there not, and Kate had done her best to ignore them until enough was enough and she’d found herself locked inside the dirty restroom behind a gas station, squatting over the seat with a pregnancy test in her hand during the time she was supposed to be out grabbing a pizza while Freddie reloaded all their guns.

She’s not surprised when the positive sign pops up.

Neither is she truly shocked when she catches her reflection on the soap-stained and cracked mirror hanging above the sink, silent tears streaming down her cheeks like a downpour that’s finally managed to break through the drought she’d forced her soul to endure. Her heart is pounding and her palms are sweating and she’s growing increasingly suspicious with every second that crawls by that she’s in the middle of having a panic attack.

This is what her beautiful life had come to.

Dirty bathrooms in broken backroads and trembling hands with dried blood caked underneath her fingernails. A bag full of stolen money that she’d trade without missing a beat if she could only have at least _one_ member of her family there with her for her to take comfort in. A baby growing inside of her from a man she didn’t know where to find and wasn’t sure she really wanted to, anyways. She is three weeks shy of turning eighteen, her whole family is dead or out causing death, and the father of her child is a heroin-addicted criminal: a wanted fugitive.

Her mother was probably rolling over in her grave.

(Her daddy didn’t get that luxury.)

She’s lost, and every last string to her old life she’d manage to keep hidden has been torn out from her grasp and set on fire.

Her very last piece of innocence, withering away right in front of her.

She doesn’t know what to do about anything.

The only thing she knows is that she has to _run_.

Kate knows she has to, because she can’t – she _won’t_ – risk her child.

This baby that has arrived at the worst possible moment and out of one of the worst possible situations, but who is overall an innocent and _hers_ and who she will not, under any circumstances, give up on. And if that means she has to leave everything and everyone around her again, well, that’s a price she’s willing to pay. She will not have her baby become a target for any monster to decide it wants as its prize. In the short time she’s been fighting evil she’d made a dozen enemies, so she can’t even begin to contemplate how many people Seth’s managed to piss off in his lifelong spree of crime, both human and supernatural, and how many of those wouldn’t think twice about harming her child if word ever got out.  

 _Seth_.

He couldn’t find out, at least, not now.

She’d barely been able to survive those three months with him, and that’s only if you don’t take into consideration her bursts of insanity. Kate can curse his name to infinity but it doesn’t change the fact that she’d been just as bad as him at times. She might not have been the one shooting poison up her arm but she’d still held the needle against his neck and tucked him in at night. She’d helped him numb himself and fall into his addiction because it had been _easier_ for her that way. He couldn’t interfere with her plans or her research if he was passed out on a bed, safe inside their shitty motels.

She hadn’t stopped him from slowly destroying himself because a part of her relished in it; a sick and twisted part of her found joy in watching this man who’d been key in tearing her world apart suffer for his crimes. A part of her became addicted to seeing the expression on his face when he’d reach his drug-induced high and he’d stare at her like she was the only light in his life and he was vulnerable to her will.

His life had been in her hands.

But, goddammit, her heart had been in his.

And try as she might, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from giving in.

How could she, when he looked at her like she was his salvation? Or when he might be an asshole, but he was still an asshole who would lay down his life for her? How could she stop it, when they’d been two sides of the same coin and as much as she hated him for his choices, a part of her had forgiven him for his sins back inside the twister when he’d forced her to confess her own? When a part of her understood every motive behind his actions and refused to blame him for the fallout?

It’d been one night.

Just one: filled with drugs and anger and her blunt nails had drawn blood when they dug into his back and he’d been almost too rough for her first time and she’d whispered _‘I hate you’_ into his ear at the same time that her legs tightened around his waist and he’d whispered it right back as his arms held her closer to his heart and tucked her smaller body underneath his.

After, when he’d rolled off of her but still dragged her back into his embrace, he’d buried his nose into her hair and gently brushed away her hair so he could pepper kisses across her shoulders and up her neck. _‘Don’t leave me,_ ’ he’d pleaded, low and desperate and sounding every bit as broken as she’d felt. _‘I need you.’_

 _‘I won’t,_ ’ she’d promised, intertwining her fingers between his and holding them together beneath her chest. And when his breaths deepened and she was sure he was fast asleep, she’d silently cried before she’d added, ‘ _I love you._ ’

The next morning it was unanimously decided that they would never speak of that night.

She’d broken her promise a few days later, anyways.

Now there was this baby, this eternal reminder of their sins and blessings, growing inside of her.

And all Kate knew was that she had to run away.


	2. chasing the echoes of your name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for your awesome response!   
> Last one of these before we get into the heart of the story!
> 
> (alternate chapter title for this is "what she was doing instead of writing her Article Analysis that is due on Wednesday morning.")

I wasn’t honest

To tell you the truth

I wanted it all

But I want you, too.

-Halo (Disappear_Reappear)

…

Disappearing is easier than she’d expected.

Ranger Gonzalez, bless his heart, doesn’t try to stop her.

She packs what little clothes she’s managed to save over the past few weeks, the crossbow Freddie gifted her once she finally perfected her aim, and the silver pocketknife Seth slipped into her hand the day after they left the Twister.

She can’t bring herself to pack a gun.

Which, really, is kind of ridiculous given the crossbow and the knife and the bag full of cash from a robbery she’s been carrying around for over two months. It’s just, having a gun is not a _mom_ thing to do. It feels like carrying it around with her is a magnet for trouble: an open declaration of war against the rest of the world. She needs a clean start, without blood and death and creatures that should only exist in children’s fantasies. She needs, above everything, to give her child the best shot she possibly can.

Kate leaves Freddie with an ‘ _I can’t do this anymore’_ and a ‘ _thank you for everything you’ve done for me’_ and finally ‘ _I hope the best for you and your family.’_

She doesn’t mention the baby. It’s doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’d never let her out alone in the world if he knew her situation and just how much more complicated it would get in a few months. Or maybe he would, given that this is still the same man who left her standing alone outside a vampire bar ten minutes after she’d killed her father and was more in shock than anything.

He gives her the keys to his truck and then she’s gone.

It’s around the same time that she realizes she has no clue where she’s going.

She contemplates, briefly, going back to Bethel.

Her daddy hadn’t sold the house, and it wasn’t too late that she couldn’t use the money she had to pay off some of the backed up mortgage payments and bills. There were people she knew and trusted there; family and friends she was sure would do their best to help her out. Her baby would have an entire community who cherished her family at its grasp. She could go back and be the good girl who made a bad choice after she lost her family and her congregation would find it in their hearts to forgive her.

Except, Kate is tired of it.

She doesn’t want to live the rest of her life pretending to be something she’s not, living a beautiful lie because the truth is too bizarre and surreal for anyone to understand, and she sure as hell doesn’t want her child to grow up that way, either.  

She will not go home to play the _victim_.

She will not take advantage of people’s pity and she will not make up lies about her family’s fate or her brother’s whereabouts and she will not paint herself as a damsel who knew no better and allowed a man to take advantage of her. They’re none of those things and neither is she and if there’s one thing they all brought out in her, it’s the courage that she never knew existed. It’s like every blow she took, starting with the day her momma passed, has been used to crack her soul apart and now she’s been liberated

She can do this. She _will_ do this.

Kate just wishes she wasn’t so damn _terrified_.

(Dear God, she’s so over her head.)

And, despite how much she wills her mind against it - how stupid and moronic and _Jesus_ , she’s supposed to be an adult making responsible decisions, not some lovelorn teenager who can’t let go of her first crush - she can’t stop her thoughts from turning to Seth with every mile that passes by.

She thinks about making a U-turn and heading straight back to Mexico. She thinks about how easy it’d been to find the _culebras_ once she knew what to look out for. She thinks about all the tricks he showed her when he’d been lucid, how the way they covered their tracks was so representative of them and how she’d be able to pick him out anywhere in a crowd now. It probably wouldn’t even be that hard to track him; all she had to do was follow the trail of destruction and it would lead her right to him.

But what was she supposed to do after?

Show up at his temporary door, knock on the old and rotted wood and say, _‘hey! Guess what? You knocked me up and I have no one else so get ready to be a daddy?’_

What would that really get her? What was she expecting?

For Seth to decide he wants to make an honest woman out of her? Maybe have a super classy shot-gun wedding so their child wouldn’t be born a bastard? And then what? He’d quit his life of crime and get a normal job so he could support them and he would stop using drugs and let go of all his self-destructive tendencies? Maybe have some family picnics in the park during the summer, inviting Richie and Santanico and Scott and Carlos out for a day at the carnival?

Yeah, right.

Like, really, how much dumber could she be?

There weren’t even any guarantees that he’d want anything to do with her baby. Maybe she went ahead and searched high and low for him in Mexico and when she finally caught up to him he’d tell her to go the hell back to wherever she came from. Maybe he’ll tell her that he has no intentions of being a father and that it’s her problem to deal with and she’ll be left so much worst this time around then when this all started.

And yet, she knows that neither of these versions of Seth are a reality.

He’s not as noble as she wishes he could be, nor is he as much of an asshole as she wants to paint him out to be. He’s just, he’s _Seth_ , and sometimes he’s good and most times he’s bad and she knew that from the very beginning. She knew what she was getting into when she asked him to let her tag along outside the bar and she had every chance to leave when he was passed out from his drugs and nobody forced her to stick around until way past the point of no return.

So she’s going to choose to believe that he would understand why she can’t let him find out about his son or daughter. She’s going to choose to believe that he would understand that his life is too dangerous for an innocent and defenseless child to be around. She’s going to hope and she’s going to pray that he never finds out and that if he ever does, he won’t hate her for it and he’ll respect her choice and stay away.

Life is all about choices, and Kate’s going to choose to believe that he’ll forgive her for hers just like he asked her to forgive him for his.

She’s going to remember him as the man who promised to keep her safe and who refused to leave her alone when they were underground with those monsters. She’s going to remember him as the man who called her his partner and praised her astuteness and trusted her judgement. She’s going to remember him as a person who made mistakes and was flawed but not broken.

As a man who fought for what was his and refused to hold back.

And those are the stories she’ll tell her son or daughter when she or he is older and begins asking about its father. She’ll give her baby the best version of Seth Gecko: the one Kate knew was lost underneath all his traumas and bravado. She’ll leave out the guns and the drugs and the murders and robberies and even though it’s not the whole truth – it would _never_ be the whole truth – it would be _enough_.

She has to pull over to the side of the road the moment she leaves Texas behind and crosses into New Mexico.  

Because she’s a mess and so is he and two wrongs don’t make a right and this baby _needs_ her to be right. She needs to step up and be a good mother and if that’s all that she ever accomplishes in her life, well, Kate could die feeling satisfied.

She wipes away her tears, blows her nose into a Kleenex from a dollar store package she keeps inside the glove compartment, and takes a deep breath to calm herself down and regain her focus.

She’s _got_ this. _She can do this._

Slowly, Kate eases back into the highway and doesn’t stop driving until the sun sets down.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it was important to highlight why somebody like Kate, who's whole concept revolves around family and trying to keep the people she loves together, would decide to do something like run off to raise her secret love-child alone. Next chapter goes into actual plot for this and we find out what everybody's been up to. 
> 
> Let me know what you think and what you would like to see happen!


	3. i'll take it from here, honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for your lovely comments! Glad to see you're still enjoying the story!   
> Drama shall ensue.

Now that I’m older

I finally see

You were the worst and the best thing

That happened to me

-Show Me The Light

…

There’s an itching in the base of her spine, her shoulders are tense and her neck feels like someone stuck their claws into her throat and is seconds away from snapping it in half.

Someone is watching her.

It may have been years since the last time she felt it, but there are just some things you don’t forget. They become a part of you, like a brand that’s been burned into your lungs and aches with every breath you take. That’s sort of exactly how she remembers everything from her time in Mexico; a scab that won’t heal and throbs if you even try to stare at it for too long.

It’s both a blessing and a curse.

And right at this moment, she knows, without a doubt, that someone is watching her.

Kate looks around; scans her surroundings for any sign of a threat, just the way he’d taught her to. There’s too much and nothing to see. It’s the middle of the day, the sun it out bright and gorgeous, and she’s standing in the middle of a park. There are children playing on the slide and a mother bent down on one knee as she puts a band-aid over a little boy’s scraped knee and the ice cream man is making a killing on his strawberry shaved ice.

Nothing stands out of the ordinary. She’s been in this park a hundred times and is on a first-name basis with the lovely old custodian who’d let them tag along when she discovered a litter of baby kittens abandoned by the pond half a year back. Greta had even conned her into keeping one of the little buggers, and Luna had quickly adapted to her new family. All things considered, this is one of her favorite places to be and a constant reminder of peace.

Except today.

“What are you staring at, Mommy?”

Kate looks down at the little girl calling for her, clutching onto the skirt of her dress and leaning forwards so her thin arms wrap around her legs.

God, it still hits her like a ton of bricks every time she thinks about it.

(And there’s not a moment in any day that her thoughts don’t revolve around her little girl.)

Her baby, who really wasn’t much of a baby anymore, was Kate’s entire world. Grace Fuller was just over four years old now, with jet-black, pin-straight hair that fell down to her lower back and a sun-kissed complexion that was barely a touch lighter than her father’s. In fact, aside from her having somehow inherited her green eyes, her daughter was almost an exact replica of Seth; all sharp features and high cheekbones and if anyone who knew him was to catch a glimpse of her, her paternity would be given away in a heartbeat.

They had all the same mannerisms: there was so much of Seth in her tiny daughter that sometimes it felt like it was going to drive her insane. They both tapped their fingers against their legs when they were trying hard to concentrate and they both bit down on the side of their cheek when they were annoyed and scrunched up their noses when they didn’t want to do something but Jesus, it was that _smirk_ that knocked the air of out her lungs every time she saw it.

It always popped up when Grace was feeling mischievous and trying to get away with a silly trick or a white lie. Her daughter was fully-aware that what she was doing wasn’t _right_ , per se, but she couldn’t stop herself from doing her best to pull a fast one over somebody else. And then, when she’d get caught, she’d release the most delighted giggle and squeal over how much better she was getting at _pretending_.

_‘Mommy, look! I tricked you! I did!’_

All of their friends thought it was adorable: she was a beautiful and precocious little girl who was a delight to be around and made even the most hardened of souls fall in love with her.

Of course she would; she might not have their last name, but she was a still a Gecko through and through. If there was anything her father exceeded in, it was his ability to charm his way out of any situation.

Kate loved her: fiercely and unconditionally and she’d rather die a thousand deaths than ever let any harm come to her daughter. Her daughter, who aside from her playful streak, was sweet and innocent and so very pure of heart and filled with so much unbridled joy that it made every single tear and sacrifice well-beyond worth it. Grace was her sun and moon and stars and where once motherhood had terrified her, she could no longer picture a life without it. It hurt too much to even ponder.

And there was somebody watching her.

“Nothing, sweetie,” she tries to reassure her, kneeling down so that they’re both at eye-level and picking her up so she can cradle her in her arms. “I just think that maybe it’d be best if you and I go home now.”

Home, where there are loads of neighbors who always keep an eye out for them and her windows are barred and her doors have reinforced locks that even the Geckos would have a hard time being able to crack.  

“Okay,” Grace agrees, never one to throw a tantrum. She leans forwards and rests her head on Kate’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around her neck and burying her button nose against her shoulder blades. “I’m sleepy anyways.” Kate can’t stop the laugh that bubbles in her chest because that was her baby, always finding a way to make it clear that _she_ was the one in charge without even being aware of doing so.

Home is different nowadays.

It’s nothing in comparison to the house she’d been raised in back in Bethel: wide and spacious and with so many nooks and crannies that it’d inherited a personality all of its own. It’s not big enough to house a large family and there’s no space to even think about beginning the organic garden her mother had dedicated so much time to the Fall before her death and having a dog is right out of the question. It’s definitely not like the shitty motel rooms they’d stayed in while in Mexico, with the creepy inn-keepers who tended to take a liking to her and who Seth would glare down the second they stepped into the property. The beds don’t have the scent of smoke and sex and grime clinging to them like a crutch and she’s not worried about getting a disease every time she steps on the carpet without shoes on.

No.

Their new home is comfortable and clean: a little 2-bedroom apartment in a decent side of town that was the perfect fit for them. It had a balcony just big enough for them to have a couple of flower pots outside and while they might not be allowed to have a dog, her landlord had made no objection when Grace had flashed her wide eyes in his directions and asked him if she could keep her new kitten.

They had nothing but happy memories here, and it was the one place where Kate always felt _safe_.

Which is why, when there’s a soft knock on her door twenty minutes after they get home, her instincts don’t kick into overdrive. The sun is still out and she can hear children playing outside and her neighbor is still washing his car less than thirty feet away from their front yard. She figures it’s probably Margie, passing by to collect the toys her son had forgotten the last time he came over for a playdate or maybe it’s Mrs. Roberts from down the hall, who likes to drop off fresh fruit for Grace every time she takes a trip down to the farmers market.

The blanket of security that cocoons her every time she steps into her home momentarily causes her to forget one _vital_ fact, and Kate’s not sure if she’ll ever be able to forgive herself for it.

Somebody had been watching her.

When she opens the door, it’s not to find Margie or Mrs. Roberts or any of the other familiar faces that tended to stop by more often than necessary because of their attachment to her daughter.

No.

Instead, there - standing as tall and as broody and as imposing as ever - are the Geckos, looking so out of place and out of their element and threatening to shatter this beautiful life that’s she’s worked so hard to build for her daughter just the way they’d contributed to ruining her own before she was even of legal age.

Her instincts snap into place and Kate’s not even aware of her arm moving to slam the door shut in their faces. It’s of no use, though, because as fast as she may be they’ve always been faster and smoother and more practiced and trigger-reactions are ingrained into their very chemistry. Seth’s broad shoulder shoves the door forwards, causing her to lose her footing and stumble back just enough for them to slip in through the gap and lock the door shut behind them.

No. no. no. no.

This is all wrong.

Kate clenches her fists and stands her ground, allowing her fiercest glare to be directed at the brothers at the same time that she begs and prays that Grace stays inside her room watching _The Little Mermaid_ and doesn’t come running out at the sound of their commotions. Deep in her heart she knows that it’s useless: if Seth and Richie were the ones watching her then there’s no chance that they didn’t get a good look of her spending the day with her daughter. There was still a chance that she could deny it all; claim that Grace was younger than she seemed and had been the result of a relationship months after their split.

But no lie her panicked mind could conceive would hold up if either of them got a clear look at her face.

Finally, it’s Seth who speaks up, taking a few steps forward until he’s invading her personal space all over again.

“Time’s up, Princess,” he grinds out, clenching his jaw and looking angrier and more focused than she’s ever seen him. “You and I need to have a little chat about some things.”

She doesn’t blame him.

It’s her fault, really, for being naïve enough to hope that this bullshit was ever going to end.

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, there's a five-year time shift between chapter 2 and this one.   
> I'm trying to decide whether I want to write the next chapter in Seth's POV or to just continue the rest of the story using only Kate's. Let me know your thoughts on that.   
> Hope everyone liked it! Tell me what you think is going to happen next!


	4. when i'm hanging on by the rings around my eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arctic Monkeys song reference in this one because we're doing Seth's POV and I cannot listen to them without thinking of SethKate. HA.   
> It's a little bit later than anticipated, but it turned out to be twice as long as was expected.

And do you look into the mirror

To remind yourself you’re there?

Or has somebody’s goodnight kisses

Got that covered?

When I’m not being honest

I pretend that you were just some lover.

-Love Is A Laserquest

…

_‘You have to get my sister out.’_

And, goddammit, that’d been all it took to get him to turn the car around and drive them across half the fucking country, hadn’t it?

A couple of rushed out and whispered warnings over the phone from a kid that’d spent the past five years being Carlos’ lapdog while trying his best to kill them and bring on the Culebra Apocalypse.

What in the hell was he supposed to do with that?

Seth hadn’t even had any proof this wasn’t just a bullshit trap they’d set up to finally succeed in putting a bullet in the back of his head. They’d set up more than their fair share to do the same to them. First rule of the trade is that you trust no one. Trusting people means relying on them. Relying on them gets you dead.

He would know about that.

(“You do what I tell you, when I tell you, and you’ll get out of this without any bumps or scrapes.”)

_‘They’re going to kill her.’_

His fingers tighten around the steering wheel and his jaw clenches so much he can feel his molars grinding down against each other. Richie’s sitting next to him because they left Texas in the middle of the night and, out of everyone in the fucking world, it was _Santanico_ who decided he shouldn’t drive off half-cocked on his own to find a girl he left on the side of the rode five years ago.

They know something.

Richie and Santanico; he saw the way they’d stared at each other and whispered right underneath their breaths so he couldn’t make it out. It may have been a long time since he decided he was going to stop spending his every waking moment worrying about them trying to either eat him or turn him into a member of their merry club of succubus, but he has no illusions that they tell him more than a sliver of the twisted plans they plot when he’s asleep at night.    

_‘You’re the only chance she’s got.’_

He’d swallowed his pride and gotten Gonzalez to track her down.

If Bruce Lee wasn’t lying through his teeth, then that meant he didn’t have much time. Carlos had better and faster connections than they did. It wouldn’t take him long to find her and the only advantage Seth had was daylight. He could move faster on his own than that son of a bitch would with his entire entourage and if Richie wanted to tag along, well, he could wear a fucking jacket and stick to the backseat while the sun was out.

_‘Leave that girl alone, Seth. Don’t drag her back into this hellhole.’_

Her new life feels like a slap to the face.

She’s been living in Arizona; has been for the past couple of years. The closer he gets to the address he’d been given and the more obvious it becomes that she’d done the farthest thing from hiding. Phoenix is no one’s definition of a small town. There are schools and apartment buildings and shopping centers and she’s right smack in the middle of it, surrounded by neighbors who more than likely keep an eye out for her and little shitheads trying to chase after her skirt.

She’s not living in the darkness, barely managing to scrounge by in the shadows.

Kate is out in the world; thriving under the fucking sunshine.

And he’s about to take it all away from her.

Again.

He pulls up to the curve, unbuckles his seatbelt, double checks his gun is loaded before tucking it into his coat and he’s about to throw the door open when Richie’s hand grabs hold of his arm and forces him to look back at him.

“You need to be ready for whatever we might find up there.”

“Well, no shit, Sherlock,” Seth scoffs, pulling his arm free. They hadn’t had a chance to canvass the area and they were about to march up to her apartment. For all they knew, they could be seconds away from walking into an ambush; there were no guarantees that one of Carlos’ cronies hadn’t gotten to her before they could.. “But first we have to get up there and make sure she’s not culebra chow already. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go do that now.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Seth groans, desperate to stop the anxiety that’s threatening to consume him. He needs to get up there and make sure she’s _okay_ and _alive_ and goddammit, he hasn’t been able to take a breath since that phone call and Richie is not helping matters at all. “Then what the hell are you talking about? If she’s not there then we have to make a new plan to find her.”

“She might not be alone,” Richie deadpans, flexing his knuckles and refusing to break eye contact. There it is again, that shard of a lie that always gleams in his eyes now; that look that screams _don’t trust me_ every time he looks away. “She might already have a boyfriend or a family she doesn’t want to leave behind or something else tying her here. We can’t just go in there and drag her out like cavemen if she doesn’t want to go.”

They both pause.

“Look, whatever the hell she’s been up to for the past five years, she’s going to have to put it on hold until we can get rid of Carlos,” Seth shrugs him off, doing his best to appear like his warnings aren’t tearing at his conscious.

He’s not going to do that to himself: he’s not going to sit here and torture himself with images of her with a boyfriend or a husband or a little family. But, fucking hell, he was pathetic, wasn’t he? To not even consider that she might have been able to really move on with her life? To not think that she’d be capable of finding someone who was good for her?

To not stop and think that if he, who’d only known her for three months – most of which she’d spent surrounding herself in a cloud of anger and depression after the damage he’d been responsible for causing her family – had managed to somehow gain her grace and kindness and had been touched by the purity and innocence that was her soul, a better man with a kinder heart wouldn’t have the same luck. Someone who could give her stability and respect and a big house with a white picket fence.

Someone who wouldn’t taint her with just the mention of his name.

(There’s no story where the Preacher’s Daughter ends up with the Common Criminal.)

“Let’s do this.”

They move quickly.

There’s some guy washing his car in the driveway and a bunch of kids running around and it’s such a picturesque neighborhood that Seth knows, without a doubt, that they stand out.

They don’t fit into this world any more than they would have back in Bethel and people like them were not meant for these kind of homes. Not with their suits and sunglasses and the ridiculous hat Richie has to wear so his face doesn’t set on fire the moment he steps out into the sun. It’s exactly the kind of place where they’ve never been welcomed; the kind of places that Seth used to watch on the television when he was a little kid and just wanted a good family; the kind of place where families like the Fullers would live.

Her door is number 2B.

Seth clears his throat, knocks twice and steps aside so she or whoever else is inside won’t be able to see him through the peephole, and holds his breath as he waits for her to finally open the door.

Son of a bitch, it’s just like looking at a memory.

She’s still all pale skin and long brown hair and doe green eyes and there’s this flash of uninhibited _fear_ that crosses over her face when she realizes that it’s _them_ but then she’s trying to slam the door shut in his face and he’s shoving his body forwards before she can lock them out and they’re slipping inside her home faster than they’d broken into the Fuller’s motel room all those years ago.

Kate takes another step back and Seth’s moves after her, crowding her until she stands her ground and stops pacing, glaring at both of them like they’re the devil incarnated and she’s ready to fight them to the death.

It stings.

But, given their track record, who the hell knows? Maybe she’s right to be so defensive and worried; maybe all they’re going to do is bring her more harm than good and maybe she’s still just another means to an end and she was so much better off fending for herself.

Lots of maybe’s – none of which he was willing to risk.

Not with her. _Never_ with her.   

“Time’s up, Princess,” he grinds out, clenching his jaw and doing his best to settle the anger that’s pumping through his veins. “You and I need to have a little chat about some things.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you two,” she retorts, crossing her arms underneath her chest and of course she wasn’t going to make this any easier than it had to be. “I want you both out of my home.”  

“Can’t do that, sweetheart.” Seth shrugs, taking a step back.

He thinks that maybe giving her some space to breathe will help her calm down. He knows she hates feeling trapped; hates feeling like she has nowhere to run and like her life is being ripped out of her hands. It’s one of the reasons he used to crowd her so much, back when they were on the road together and she would piss him off. His doped up mind always wanted to have that power over her: that silent reminder that _‘I am here and I’m in control and I could break you’_ if she stepped out of line or tried to challenge his authority.

Seth had tried to manipulate her so she’d never leave him and ended up chasing her away instead.

Fuck, he’d been such an asshole to her.

“Your baby brother made it explicitly clear that you’re in danger.”

“I appreciate the warning,” she thanks him without an ounce of honesty in her voice, slowly shuffling her stance as she moves towards the other side of the room, still refusing to look away from him. “But I’ve managed just fine on my own and I can take care of myself.”

“Seth.”

It’s Richie, this time, but Seth is too busy studying the girl in front of him to pay much attention to his brother.

Kate is not a girl anymore.

She might look the same as she had five years ago but there was too much that changed, as well. She was sharper and brighter and the fierceness in her eyes hadn’t dimmed down, but intensified. She looked just about ready to fight them; all traces of docility wiped out from within her.

This was not the girl who would whispers her secrets to him from her side of the bed on the odd nights he wasn’t high and the darkness around them had embolden her. This was not the girl who would slip her fingers between his when she was feeling lonely and scared and overwhelmed in the middle of the night and was sure he was sleeping. This was not the girl who would stick a needle in his neck and help him lay back down to rest just so she could have a break from his special brand of cruelty.

(“Everybody that you ever loved is dead.”)

This is not the girl who his twisted mind could’ve once sworn had loved him.

“Seth,” his brother’s voice cuts through again, louder this time.

Seth cocks his head and stares at him, scowling at the interruption. “What is it, Richard?”

“Shut up and look,” he demands, swinging his head to the side so he can point at something just out of his sight. Seth doesn’t see anything at first, and he’s about to lose his mind because he swears that if Richie starts having his fucking uncontrollable visions again he’s going to check out and go throw himself off the highest bridge he can find.

But then his words die in his throat.

Because there, standing in the hallway that must lead into the bedrooms, is a little girl with pitch-black hair and big green eyes and she’s clutching onto a teddy bear and studying them with the same unfaltering curiosity he remembers seeing in his own brother’s face when they were younger.

“Mommy,” she calls out, taking a tentative first step into the living room he’s just now realized is jammed pack with children’s toys and picture frames hanging from the walls, before regaining her confidence and rushing over to Kate. The girl grabs onto her hand before returning her attention to them, angling her head so she can get a better look at her unexpected guests, and then gazes back up at her mother. “Who are they?”

Seth can’t stop staring at her.

Because he’s completely certain he’s never met this child before, but her face is engraved into his memory.

There’s this photo album, one of the few things they’d managed to save after Richie set their house on fire, and inside had been side-by-side pictures of their parents when they’d been children. His mom used to point out how lucky they were, to have Richie look like their dad and Seth look like her, two little peas in a pod, but it’d always been a big point of contempt for his old man; one of his sons looking so much like the woman who’d abandoned him for another man.

The little girl clutching onto Kate’s hand?

She looks just like his mother.

“They’re just old friends, sweetie,” Kate answers her, picking her up and doing her best to keep the girl’s face hidden from them. “They’ll be leaving soon. Why don’t you go back into your room and after they leave I’ll go in to read you a story.”

“The Princess Bride,” the girl squeals, pressing a kiss against her cheek before scrambling to be lowered onto the floor. She’s about to run off into her room and Seth can only stare at this little girl who calls Kate her mother and has his face and hazy images of a night spent with her underneath harsh motel sheets are flooding his mind and all the pieces of the puzzle are already set into place but his brain is too fried to make the connection. 

For the first time in his life, he has no fucking clue what to do.

He’s paralyzed.

And she’s about to go away.

“I’m Richie,” his brother calls out, stepping forwards until he’s kneeling down right in front of her, holding out his hand like a peace offering. “And this is my brother, Seth. What’s your name?”

“My name is Grace Fuller,” she recites, extending out her tiny hand for his brother to shake. Her voice is sweet and melodic, clearer than that of the rest of the children he’d met before on random occasions. Or maybe he just hadn’t ever bothered paying enough attention to them. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

Kate’s hands land on her daughter’s shoulders, pulling her closer.

“Well, Grace, it’s lovely to meet you, too,” Richie smiles at her, using every trick he can to charm the girl. She reaches up and touches the rim of his thick glasses, grinning from ear to ear when they slide down the bump of his nose and his brother manages to catch them seconds before they land on the floor. “How about you and I sit down in the kitchen while your mommy and my brother have a little chat? I promise you can play with my glasses.”

Grace’s eyes widen at the possibility of playing a new game, and Kate looks like she wants to snatch her daughter up and run out the door screaming for help.

“Can I, mommy?”

She’s not looking at Grace anymore; she’s staring right at him, lost and angry and so _disappointed_ , more than likely regretting not killing him in his sleep when she had a chance.

“Sure, baby,” she agrees, knowing when to admit defeat and which battles to concede. Plus, Seth’s pretty sure she doesn’t want her daughter hearing whatever she’s about to tell him. “Why don’t you get your coloring books and draw a picture in the kitchen?”

Grace runs off, and Richie hasn’t even finished getting up off his knees when Kate is stepping forwards and stabbing her fist against his chest. “Touch a single hair on my baby girl and I will kill you,” she warns him, and neither brother has any doubt that she means it.

“I won’t,” Richie promises, walking away into the kitchen and leaving them both alone.

“Kate.”

He barely recognizes his own voice.

There’s this anger there, this _resentment_ , and it somehow manages to scare him because he doesn’t know how to control it. He’s been in shitty situations but this, this feels like _treason_. He wants to hurt her. He wants to slam her against the wall and demand answers. He wants her to look him in the eyes and confess and he wants the satisfaction of telling her that she’s not _forgiven_.

“I, she, it’s not,” she stutters out, and he can see the dread and panic as it intensifies within her. Seth can see it then, bright and flaring in her eyes, the _fear_ that had never been there before. “There was somebody else, after we separated.”

She’s always been such a horrible liar.

“Kate.” He repeats, and the question that he can’t bring himself to voice is loud and clear between them both.

She stares at him, studies him just like he’d studied her, looks at his stance and his fists and the way he’s physically blocking the door and something breaks inside of her when she realizes that she has nowhere left to go; remembers that there’s no place she could hide and he wouldn’t find her; accepts that the only reason she got away in the first place is because he _let_ her go.

“Yes,” she finally breathes out, dropping her shoulders in defeat and closing her eyes as she makes her greatest confession. “She’s yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked it!  
> I told you guys people were twisted in this one!  
> Thank you so much to everyone who's been taking the time to comment on this story. The reviews for the last update just blew me away, and look! double the chapter length!   
> If you're confused about anything (because I'm highly aware that Seth's mind is a hot mess) ask away and I'll clear it up!   
> Feel free to reach me on tumblr and we'll trade ideas if you're up for it!
> 
> Next Chapter we switch back to Kate's perspective. Stay tuned!


	5. how long until we all go back?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Kate's POV.   
> (And back to the phenomenon that is Mr. Gundersen's album.)

And sometimes

I play a couple war games

Using live ammunition

So I can fix what I’m missing.

-Selfish Art

…

“She’s yours.”

The words taste like poison on her tongue.

She wants to scream.

She wants to cry.

She wants to tell him that he’s a fraud and that she hates him and that he doesn’t deserve the ray of sunshine that is her daughter and she wants to yell at him that she will never let him hurt her and if he has any lingering shreds of decency left, he’ll leave and pretend he doesn’t know and he’ll never come back. She wants to curl her fingers into fists and hit him until her hands go numb and the skin of her knuckles burns raw. She wants to run into her kitchen and pick up Grace and she wants to drive as fast and as far away from Seth and Richie as she possibly can.

What she wants doesn’t matter.

It never has – not when the Geckos are involved.

And, as much as it kills her to admit it, her daughter is one of them.

Seth is completely still; staring at her like he can’t understand what she just confirmed –accusing and confused and so very angry – watching her the same way he’d watched Richie inside the RV when his brother was rambling about the monsters in his head. Kate thinks, offhandedly, that he’s looking at her in the exact same way that she’d stared at her pregnancy test, and the comparison makes a sardonic and panicked giggle bubble in her chest with so much force that it takes everything in her to knock it back and shove it down her throat before it bursts out.

Hysteria will do that to you.  

But there’d been no point in trying to deny it any longer.

Not when both brothers had gotten a good look at her baby. Not when Richie was sitting down in her kitchen table, more than likely examining her little girl for all the infamous Gecko quirks that he’d be able to spot a mile away. Not when Seth was pacing in front of her, counting back the days and months and years that’d passed by since that night in their motel room that they’d both sworn to forget. Not when Grace had been standing just in front of him, every feature of her face so goddamned similar to his.

She’s _terrified_.

She’s terrified, but it’s not of _him_ , per se.

Kate’s not afraid of Seth: never really has been, doesn’t think she ever will be. She knows he’ll never do anything to physically hurt her. She knows that that while he might not be a good man and he might be rash and impulsive and a criminal that’s committed more than his fair share of sins, he is not _evil_. He doesn’t harm others for his own joy or entertainment and he doesn’t mean for the people around him to get hurt.

But they do.

They _always_ do.

Sometimes by his hand and sometimes by his circumstances; sometimes by his will and sometimes against it, and sometimes just as residue of the storm of self-hatred and destruction that he surround himself in.

Ultimately, that’d been what stopped her from setting out to find him all those years ago. That’s what scared her the most about having her daughter anywhere near him. That’s why she’d picked up and ran until she found a place where she felt safe and where she’d sworn she could build a good life for her little Grace.

That’s why she’d prayed every single day that he’d never find them.

Because being anywhere near Seth Gecko was as close to signing away their freedom as a person could get. Being near Seth meant that your life became his to dictate unless you fought him with tooth and nail to maintain your autonomy, and even then there were no guarantees. Being with Seth meant a life of danger and running and having people constantly trying to hurt you: it meant never having stability and always lying to everyone around you and it meant never being able to trust anyone.

Being with Seth was the same as living with a ticking time-bomb.

And now Grace was going to be exposed to it.

Seth would never let his daughter go.

She could tell now just as much as she’d tried to deny it and convince herself of the opposite five years ago that he would love Grace with everything he had. He wouldn’t be able to see that the greatest gift he could give her was to stay away and let her live her life in peace. He would push and shove until he got what he wanted. He would set out to keep his daughter with him and protect her at all costs and that would be her baby’s downfall.   

Kate couldn’t bear it.

“How could you hide this from me?”

The shock has broken through, and now all that’s left in him is anger.

That’s okay, though. She’s always been able to handle him when he’s angry. She might be younger than him but he’s never managed to stop her from standing her ground.

It’s when he’s sweet that she falters.

It’s when he would drop his façade and the person she knew he could be shined through that her own defenses would crumble. It’s when he would listen to her whispered conversations at night and pretended to be asleep as she slipped her fingers between his because he’d know she was lonely and sad and needed to feel close to him without feeling like she was weak. It’s when he’d allowed himself to feel the things around him that she’d broken down and done the same for him.

It’s when he was honest with _himself_ that she’d fallen in love with him.

“What was I supposed to do?” she demands, arming herself for what’s sure to be his verbal onslaught. “Track you down and tell you that we were having a baby? I was almost three months along when I found out. I made the choice to worry about ensuring the home and stability of my daughter instead of spending all my time wandering around and looking for you.”

He’s not satisfied with her response.

“Don’t give me bullshit excuses, Kate,” he snaps back, lowering his voice when Richie clears his throat loud and clear in the kitchen, obviously warning them that they could be heard across the hall. “I taught you how to track me in case we ever got separated. You knew what to look for.”

She doesn’t feel an ounce of regret over how defensive she turns.

“I wasn’t going to run around all over Mexico while that man was trying to kill us in hopes of bumping into you at some motel in the middle of nowhere.”

“You know I would have protected you,” Seth accuses her, moving closer to her again and pointing a finger right in front of her face before seeming to catch himself, groaning and pulling back until there’s more than a foot of distance between them. “I wouldn’t have let anybody hurt you.”  

“Really? You were going to keep me safe and away from everything when I was almost due and could barely move? When you couldn’t go more than a few hours without getting high?” she questions him, throwing back his greatest downfalls in his face because he doesn’t get to do this. He doesn’t get to turn her into a monster for being able to see reason in the middle of adversity. He doesn’t get to make her feel guilty for choosing her daughter’s safety over her expired lover’s feelings.

“We barely managed to get by when we were on our own, and even then we were always on the run. How were we going to do that with a crying baby in our arms? What were we going to do if we were hiding from the police – because you do remember that you’re a wanted fugitive, don’t you? – and she started crying? Or she needed to have her diaper changed or be fed or bathed? Or if she was sick and needed to go to the hospital and we were miles away from anything?”

“We would’ve stopped – _I_ would have stopped,” he tries to break through her tirade, refusing to listen to reason even though she knows he understands. He’s shaking his head and he’s pinching the bridge of his nose and his denial is so blatant on his face that it breaks her heart just a little bit more than it already is. “I could’ve found us somewhere safe to live and you wouldn’t have been involved in any other jobs and we would’ve been fine.”

Kate waits for him to look at her again; waits until she has his full attention and she lets a little bit of her anger break – allows herself to feel the compassion she’s always held in her heart for him as she tries to explain her fears and reasoning to him, regardless of whether he deserves it or not.

“What if we hadn’t?” she wonders aloud, and this time it’s she who steps closer to him. “We were always in danger, Seth. What would we have done if someone took her away from us? Or if you got killed on a job or by a culebra or got caught and sent to jail for the rest of your life? What would you have done if something happened to me?”

“Don’t go there,” he warns her, but it sounds more like a pained plea.

“I have to,” she reminds him, placing her hand on top of his and pretending not to notice the way it seems to soothe him momentarily. “I have to now just like I did when I found out. I was seventeen and heartbroken and alone and I had to think about _everything_. I had to think about you and her and me and what would happen if I was killed because I stuck around all that death and knowingly brought my baby into it. I had to think about who would take care of her if I was gone, because you wouldn’t have been able to handle it, and how she would get by and what path led to her best chance.”  

“No,” he waves her off, pulling his hand free from her touch and refusing to listen to her any longer. “You should have told me. You don’t get to hide a fucking kid from someone and claim it was because it would’ve been _inconvenient_ for them.”

“That’s not what I’m said and you know it.”

“Yeah, what you’re saying is that I’m a death wish waiting to happen and your only option was to run away from me,” he sneers, and for once Kate can’t decipher whether the disgust on his face is directed at her or himself. “I get it; I’m the fucking Devil and I was an asshole to you, but you hid my kid from me for five years and I can bet my ass you weren’t planning on ever telling me about her, were you?”

Something inside of Kate snaps.

She has come too far and been through way too much to let a Gecko boy push her to the curb and make her feel incompetent and immature for making the difficult choices that they all refused to deal with.

If he wants to play dirty she has more than a couple of cards hidden up her sleeve.

“The last time I saw you, you told me that everyone I loved was dead and kicked me out of the car minutes after the only person who’d been genuinely kind to me in months died trying to protect me,” she reminds him, hating the way the words choke in her throat and come out just above a broken whisper at the memory of that day and of her fallen friend. “I had his blood on my face and you left me even after I swallowed my pride and told you I wasn’t ready. You were a fugitive wanted for murder with a heroin addiction and an even nastier streak.”

He pauses, stares at her like he can’t seem to stop doing since he shoved his way into her home and opens his mouth to object when she cuts him off.

“So don’t you _dare_ make yourself out to be the _victim_ here.”

This is it.

This is the line she’s drawing for him. He can be angry and he can yell and he can feel whatever the hell it is he wants to but she will not let him turn himself into a martyr. She will not let him guilt her into forgetting every reason she had to stay away from him. She will not let him con his way into her and her daughter’s life with unearned sympathy and a false sense of self-righteousness that he hasn’t earned or achieved.

She’d loved him – blindly and fiercely and desperately – but he’d been _toxic_ ; the greatest service she’d ever done for Grace was taking her away from him instead of gambling her future on the possibility of her father finding the light and _changing_.

Seth, true to the Gecko fashion, is refusing to accept the reality of her words and their situation.

“You know what? We don’t got time for this shit right now,” he decides, slamming his palms together as a sign that he’s done with this conversation and rubbing them together before turning away from her and walking around her living room. “Pack a bag, Princess; we’re leaving in ten.”

Jesus Christ, she really might murder him now.

“We’re not going anywhere with you,” she snaps, snatching the picture frame of Grace when she was two years old that he’s just pulled off the wall out his hands and holding it closer to her chest. “This is our life now. I’m not going to put my daughter through the same things I went through just because you’re angry you didn’t know about her. We’ll be okay here.”

Apparently, Seth is finished fighting with her, too.

“I don’t think you get it; your shithead little brother – who’s been off having the time of his life killing people, by the way – found the guts to call me and tell me to come get you out of here before Carlos could find you,” he informs her, glaring at her before reaching for another frame and pulling the photograph out of its place so he can carefully stuff it into his coat’s pocket. “What the hell do you think they’ve got planned for you, if he felt guilty enough about it to ask me to save you?”

She doesn’t get a chance to answer because just when she’s about to there’s a soft knock on her door.

This day just couldn’t get any better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone liked it! As always, feel welcomed to ask if you're confused about anything. Let me know what you think about the story and who you think is knocking at Kate's door, and I'm going to really push myself to try and finish another update by tomorrow night!
> 
> (You know, if I don't spend the next week writing a massive oneshot based solely on Adele's music because "Hello" just tore my heart out and I'm not even sorry about it.)


	6. if blessed are the meek then I'm cursed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is from another one of Mr. Gundersen's phenomenal albums.   
> Sorry for the delay, and please accept this massive update as a formal apology. ha!

“I want to learn how to love

Not just the feeling

Bear all the consequences

And I want to learn how to love

And give it all back

And be forgiven for all I’ve done.”

-Ledges

…

There’s some kid at the door.

He’s a couple of inches taller than Kate and he wears a stupid red baseball cap that covers his shaggy brown hair and he’s got on a gray flannel shirt even though it’s the middle of July and over a hundred degrees outside. There’s no beard on his face or tattoos on his arms or bleeding knuckles on his fists. This kid is the farthest thing away from a criminal.

What he _does_ have is a dopey fucking look on his face when he gets a look at Kate.

“Hey, Kate,” he’d greeted, completely oblivious to Seth hiding next to the door. “I was wondering if you and Gracie wanted to go out for an ice cream, and maybe catch a movie.”

“Shawn,” she’d replied, not moving away from the door and refusing to let him inside. She’s doing the thing she always does when she’s nervous – scratching her nails across her thumb – and he can’t figure out if it’s the guy that had her feeling uncomfortable or simply residue of the gun he knows she spotted on him already; like if he’s really stupid enough to start shooting her neighbors in the middle of the hallway. “I’m sorry, but right now’s just not a good time.”

“Oh, I mean, that’s okay,” the kid sighed, and the obvious disappointment in his voice made every cell inside of Seth’s body swell with jealousy because who the hell was this kid? Was he somebody she was dating? Was he a part of their lives? Was he always around or was this the first time he’d gotten the guts to approach her?  Was this kid somebody that his daughter looked at like a father-figure?

“We can leave it for another time.”

“Yeah, I think that would be better,” she’d smiled at him, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that her expression was genuine. She was looking at him the same way she’d looked at her little street rat back in Mexico, and if it’d bothered him when he was halfway out of his mind and still believed he had a hold over her, it doesn’t settle any better now that he knows how much effort she’d placed into breaking completely free of him.

Seth’s personally proud of himself for waiting until the door is closed and locked before he begins questioning her. “Who the hell was that?”

Kate is not as impressed.

“Jesus Christ, will you put that away,” she motions for his gun, glaring until he slides the safety back on and tucks it into coat, lifting his hands up in mock surrender. “I swear, this is exactly the reason why I stayed so far away. You can’t go around pointing that thing at innocent people here and I don’t want it anywhere near my daughter.”

Seth won’t feel guilty that his first instinct is to reach for his gun.

Not when there’s so much he didn’t even know about at risk.

“Given that there’s a psychopath who’s got it out for you on his way here, I think it’s pretty goddamned reasonable of me to be ready in case that’s him outside,” he snaps back, following across her living room until he’s standing right beside her. She’s standing her ground again, and all that compassion he’d spotted on her face before they were interrupted is quickly evaporating. “You do remember they can pretend to be someone they’re not, don’t you? Just because we’re out of Mexico don’t mean that they’re about to start playing by the rules.”

“And you do remember that this isn’t some random motel room in the middle of nowhere, right?” she snaps right back. “If my neighbors see you with that thing they’re going to call the police. I’m sure that’d be a perfect first memory for Grace to have of her father: either you getting arrested or getting into another shootout with the cops. Maybe you can use me as a shield this time, although I’m pretty sure holding onto her would be more effective.”

Now he’s the one feeling defensive.

“You know damn straight that wasn’t planned, and every single time you were in danger I kept you safe behind me.”

“I know it wasn’t planned,” she groans, gripping onto the bottom of her blouse with all the frustration he can feel simmering inside her. “You always have these meticulous plans and sometimes they work out and everything is alright, but when they don’t – when they fail – it’s always horribly so and somebody always gets hurt. I can’t risk that person being Grace.”

He wishes she didn’t make any sense. He wishes that every word out of her mouth was a lie instead of the honest-to-God truth. He wishes he could accuse her and bring up every single one of her flaws and he wishes that he had something _good_ to throw in her face and to convince her that he’s not the breathing fuck-up she walked out on five years ago.

He wishes anything she told him made a difference.

But it doesn’t. “I’m not leaving here without you.”

“I can’t leave,” Kate chants all over again, and her eyes begin to water with tears he knows she’ll never allow to leave her lids. She’s too strong for that: too tough to fall back on herself and cry in front of him; too prideful to show him what she thinks he’ll see as weakness. “I worked too hard to build this life for her and you’re asking me to throw it all away and put her in danger.”

She has a point.

She has a perfectly valid and reasonable point. She has all these bits and pieces of evidence to use against him and he’s won all her mistrust and resentment in spades. All she has of him are painful memories of all the shit he put her through and reminders of how he failed her every time she needed him. All she knows is that she can’t count on him to keep his promises and all she has and all she’s gained and every good thing in her life came as a direct result of cutting all ties with him.

All she knows for certain is that every time he’s nearby he causes her misery.  

Seth knows he’s only got himself to blame.

And maybe admitting that will give him a fighting chance at finally keeping his promises.

“I know you think that I’m a liar and an asshole and every other name you can think off that I deserve – I’m all those things and more – but I swear to you that I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think your life depended on it.”

Kate’s fingers still, more than likely out of shock at his random burst of sincerity, and there’s a glimmer of something that looks a lot less like disbelief and a lot more like self-doubt and genuine confusion with just a touch of hope hiding behind her irises.

“It’s not just me anymore,” she turns away from him, rubbing her hands together and physically trying to shake off whatever it is she’s feeling out of her system. “I can’t just get in a car with you and drive away again, hoping for the best. I’ve got responsibilities and a job and a little girl to think about. I won’t have my daughter staying in the same dirty motels with the same shady people that used to keep me up at night.”

He’s such a fucking idiot for not thinking about that before.

“It won’t be that way; Richie and I, we have a place set up now,” he tries to reassure her. “It’s safe and protected and we’re in charge of it. Everybody knows better than to try and go anywhere near it. There’s no way Carlos can get to you there.”

It’s her turn to scoff this time.

“You and I both know that no place is really safe anymore.”

“And I’m telling you that this place is,” he reaffirms, reaching for her hand and holding in the sigh of relief that wants to pour out of his throat when she doesn’t immediately pull her hand free from his, even if she still won’t meet his gaze. “I know I’ve never given you a single reason to believe me, but I’m asking you to tap into that faith you tried so hard to get me to believe in and trust me when I say that this is your best shot at keeping her safe. This is how we all get through the day, Kate.”

“Don’t use my faith against me,” she warns him, finally looking back at him. “Not when you’re putting the very reason I didn’t lose it in harm’s way.”

“I swear to you that I will protect you both.”

“I can’t,” she shakes her head, doing her best to break away from him but Seth only tightens his hold on her and uses his other hand to keep her firmly in place. “You can’t make me.”

“ _Trust me_ ,” he pleads, feeling something hopeless and desperate and _raw_ break inside of him. “Just give me a chance to show you that I can do this.”

And maybe she can hear it breaking, because she’s staring at him again.

She’s looking at him the same way she’d looked at him outside the Twister; trying to decide whether to run away as fast and as far as she could from him or ask to become his willing companion. He hates that he’s done that to her: hates that his mere presence in her life is something she finds akin to torture and cruelty. He hates that the one person who’s always been able to see through all his bullshit can’t stop looking at him like the conman and criminal others have such a hard time believing he is.

He hates that it’s his fault she’s just a little bit broken and ruined.

“If we go with you,” she finally relents, and he feels the first flutters of hope beat against his chest. “You have to promise me that once you figure this out Grace and I get to come back home and continue with our lives.”

He hears what she means, loud and clear: _‘you don’t get to be a part of this family.’_

“You know that this shit is never finished,” he reminds her, swallowing down the vile that bubbles up in his stomach at the thought of losing something he wasn’t even aware he had to begin with. “There’s always somebody else trying to kill us and the only way I can keep you safe is if you’re with me. This is my life now, and as much as I’d love to get out of it I can’t anymore, and neither can you.”

She’s not having any of it. “I got out and I made my life and once Carlos is gone I can do it all over again.”

“It’s not realistic,” he grinds out, releasing her arms and pacing across the room to give his brain a chance to think. “You’re asking me to make a promise you know I can’t keep. It’s a fucking trap, Princess. I lose either way.”

“That’s not what this is and you know it,” she presses, taking a deep breath before setting out the terms for her deal with the Devil. “Promise that you’ll let us go when this is all over, and I’ll pack a bag right now and go with you without any other questions.”

“You can’t ask me to do that.”

“And you can’t ask me to do what you want either, but you’re doing it anyways.”

She’s not going to budge and neither is her determination going to suddenly melt away. He either gives in or they’ll both be locked in a stalemate that will undoubtedly end very badly.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to argue.

Fucking hell, does he _want_ to _argue_.

He wants to sit her down in her perfect little pastel couch inside her perfect little home surrounded by her perfect little life and he wants to yell at her until his throat burns and his voice goes hoarse. He wants to tell her that she had no right and he wants to tell her that she’s the greatest goddamned bitch he’s ever met for hiding his kid from him and he wants to tell her that she’s completely fucking insane if she thinks she’s ever going to find a way to get rid of him again.

What he wants doesn’t matter.

Not when staying here to do so means risking her life. Not when every second here is another second Carlos can use to his advantage. Not when there’s something so much more important than his bullshit feelings to consider.

Not when it’s his daughter’s life on the line.

“Fine,” he concedes. “Whatever you say.”

She doesn’t stick around for him to change his mind. Kate’s gone in a flash and all Seth can do is drop his weight down on her couch and rub his palms across his face to soothe out the anger and frustration that’s threatening to overwhelm him.

He barely even registers when Richie walks in from the kitchen and sits beside him, apparently finished with his job as his daughter’s momentary distraction.

His _daughter_.

Seth doesn’t know how to process that.

He’s been in fucked up situations.

Fucking Hell, has he been in fucked up situations.

He knows how to deal with dire circumstances. He knows how to talk his way out of a bullet. He knows the fastest way to kill a culebra and he knows how to knock out Richie in thirty seconds and that Santanico always leaves her left side open for attack when she’s fighting. He knows and understands the fucking Underworld Hierarchy and he’s accepted that as some sick and twisted joke – Life’s con on the son-of-a-bitch conman that he’s always been – he’s managed to go ahead and take over a Lord’s throne and is now in charge of the same monsters he swore he’d exterminate.

He likes to think he’s a pretty resourceful man.

But what the hell is he supposed to do with a kid?

A child who was happy and carefree and had absolutely no need for him. A little girl who was all bright smiles and pink socks and who was doing so well without him. A daughter who was pure and innocent like her mother had been before she met him.

“You should try talking to her.”

One of these days Richie was going to give him a fucking heart attack. “What?”

“Grace,” he clarifies, staring at him like he’s an idiot and fixing the glasses they both knew he didn’t need back into their case. “She’s a bright girl: knows her ABCs already and can count to twenty without a problem. She’s got a kitten named Luna that a park custodian gave her five months ago. Her favorite color is Mint Green and she loves watching Sesame Street. Kate is already trying to teach her how to read. I suggest you start the conversation by asking her what her favorite book is.”

It’s like Seth stepped into an alternate reality.

“How in the hell do you know all of that already?”

“I listened,” Richie deadpans, arching an eyebrow before taking a sip from a drink Seth hadn’t even noticed was cradled in his hands. “You should try it sometime.”

“I don’t know how to talk to kids,” he sighs, burying his hands in his hair and allowing the sardonic laugh that’d been sitting on the tip of his tongue to finally break her. “I don’t think I’ve ever said more than two words to one of them.”

His brother shrugs his shoulders; neither surprised nor worried over the eldest Gecko’s revelation.

“Yeah, well, luckily you only have to worry about how to talk to _yours_ , so I’d stop hiding like a little bitch and get started, if I were you.”

“Kate doesn’t want us anywhere near her.”

“Since when have the Geckos ever been considerate of what other people want?”

“Since I got her family killed and knocked her up before she was even eighteen.”

“At least something good came out of your little Mexican Honeymoon.”

“A heroin addiction and a secret kid her mother ran halfway across the country to hide from me,” Seth scoffs, rolling his eyes at the amused grin that forms across his brother’s lips. “Pretty sure they don’t sell vacation packets to the Bahamas with half as many perks.”

“It’s a Gecko specialty to screw over as many people as possible.”

“I’m not going to ruin my daughter’s life,” he promises, more to himself than to anyone else. “Not the way we ruined Kate’s.”

“We didn’t ruin her life,” Richie retorts, exasperation more than evident. “I’ve told you before, Brother; all this shit’s been predestined: the Twister, Malvado, taking over the throne, maybe even your daughter – it’s all scripture.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Seth warns him, and if they weren’t where they are, if Kate and Grace weren’t just footsteps away from them, he’d have thrown his brother on the floor and punched him until his fists fell off. “They don’t belong in this bullshit and we’re not pulling them into it. Do you understand me?”

“Can’t outrun Destiny forever,” he replies, and it takes Seth too damn long to figure out what he means in order to stop it.

“Grace!” Richie calls out, and it’s only seconds before light footsteps can be heard rushing across the hallway. “Can you come in here for a second, please?”

“I’m going to fucking kill you, Richard.”

“Yes?” she answers, standing in front of the sofa and looking at them both in confusion. She’s carrying a gray and white-striped kitten in her arms and what are very likely its toys between her fingers and she looks more than a little annoyed at being interrupted. “Mommy said we were going on a trip and that I had to help her pack. I have to make sure I don’t leave any of Luna’s things behind.”

“I know you’re very busy right now,” Richie apologizes, doing his best to appear sincere. “But my brother really loves reading, and when I told him you have an entire library in your room, he wanted to know if you could show it to him.”

“Really?” the little girl questions Seth, turning her big bright eyes to him and granting him his first genuine smile and Jesus, he’s barely met her and he can already tell that she’s going to have him completely wrapped around her fingertips. “I can show you!”

And then she’s pulling at his sleeves, dragging him along behind her and leading him into her room and Kate freezes when he steps inside but Grace doesn’t notice as she kneels down next to the impressive three-tier bookshelf placed right in front of her bed.

“You can help me pick the books I’m taking with me.”

He wants to kneel down next to her. He wants to ask her all the questions Richie seemed to have no problem getting the answers to. He wants to tell her who he is and who _she_ is and he wants to hold onto her hands and promise her that he’d lay down his life for hers and he wants to swear until his lungs burn that he’ll never let anyone or anything land a hand on her.

He wants to tell her that he’ll be her _hero_.

The words stay stuck in his mouth.

Because one look at this room and it becomes evident that his _word_ and his _wants_ mean _nothing_.

Everything around him, from the collage of pictures on the wall to the ballerina lamp on her nightstand to the dreamcatcher hanging above her bed, is a reminder that this girl doesn’t really need him. She already has somebody who does for her all the things he can promise to. She has her mother, who is the bravest person he’s ever met, living and breathing and fighting for her.  

He couldn’t ask for anything better.

“Okay,” is what he tells her instead, leaning against the doorframe. “Pick as many as you want and I’ll help you carry them to the car.”

(Seth Gecko, you’re such a fucking _coward_.)

“Where are we going?”

“Texas,” is his immediate response, and he decides to add “Houston, to be specific,” when Kate pauses her packing so that she can eavesdrop. He really has to do so much better to get back into her good graces, and giving her the honesty he’d so vehemently promised her just a few minutes ago seemed like a pretty good place to start. “I think you’ll really like it there.”

“Do you have any puppies?” she pries, setting down her kitten as she stuffs her books into a neon pink backpack. “Because Luna really doesn’t like them.”

It’s his turn to have a genuine smile.

“Luna doesn’t have anything to worry about,” he reassures her, laughing when she giggles at the mischievous wink he sends her way.  

There’s this noise, small and soft and choked, barely audible and only noticeable by those who knew what to look out for, and Seth feels like the air is being sucked out of his lungs because it’s one that he could recognize in a heartbeat.

Kate is crying.

A quick look in her direction and he can see that she’s doing her best to hide it away, hanging her head so her hair covers her face and keeping it angled away.  

“Why don’t you go get her things ready and I can help your mom finish up?” he suggests, smiling at her in motivation and prompting her to do as requested. “The faster we’re done and the faster we can get started on our trip.”

“Okay,” she agrees, walking out of the room without complaint, calling her kitten along as she moves in search of all her possessions.

And then he’s left alone with Kate again.

“Everyone who’s ever met Grace has loved her,” she speaks up, voice thick with emotion and what sounds a lot like acceptance. “And she’s loved them all right back.”

She pauses.

Seth waits for her to finish; gives her a chance to compose herself before jumping up in his own defense or attacking her for her own. There’s something there – something that she wants to say but can’t bring herself to do so yet; something that’s harsh and cold but true and necessary. Something that’s capable of tearing them all apart.

Something she’s not ready to tell him yet.

Instead, she settles for a warning and an acknowledgement.

“Don’t you break your daughter’s heart.”

(The rest of her sentence is boldly implied: ‘ _not the way you broke mine’_.)

It’s a warning and a threat and a promise but overall, it’s a _gift_.  

Because up to now she’d done her absolute best to exclude him. Every word out of her mouth was a reminder that he was trying to intrude in a world that didn’t belong to him. Every phrase on her lips was _my daughter_ and _my little girl_ and _my baby_ and this is the first time she’s making a point of sharing that responsibility.

She’s accepting that Grace is _his_ , too.

And that’s when he makes the only vow he’s ever desperately wanted to keep.

“I won’t.”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge "Thank You" to everyone who has been taking the time to comment on this story and who lets me know how much they like it! it's really sweet to be getting such great feedback from you guys and it really does motivate me to get as much of it done as quickly as I can.   
> Hope everyone liked the update! Let me know what you think is going to happen. 
> 
> (Also, a moment of silence for Seth Gecko's emotional constipation.)
> 
> Next up - the Ramblers get Ramblin'.


	7. looking at the future through a looking glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! However, enjoy the beginning of their little road trip!

“And I hope you save

A picture of me in your pocket

When I’m gone away

And I will do the same for you

To truly love someone is the closest

I have come to truth.”

-Empty From The Start

…

She’s somewhere between denial and delusion.

Kate’s sitting inside a car she’d never seen before, petting the kitten on her lap while her daughter stared out the window and pointed excitedly at everything that captured her attention. The last two people she thought she’d ever see again are in the driver and passenger’s seats as they drag them right back into the wolves’ den. Her brother has apparently continued his vicious rampage but retained enough of a conscious to not want her dead and gone.

And, most importantly, her baby is no longer a secret.

She doesn’t know how to deal with this.

It’d been such a long time since she’d had more than a few seconds to make up her mind and exert absolute control over her life. Every decision she’d taken in the past five years had been based solely on what she considered the best choice for her daughter, and it was more than a simple adjustment having to curve her need to protect Grace at all costs and let the consequences be damned.

She hates that she wishes Seth never found them.

She hates that her first instinct was to lie and pretend and keep hiding from him.

She hates that she kept him away from his daughter and stole away that piece of happiness.

Mostly, she hates that having to do so was her only option.

(She can’t bring herself to regret it.)

“We need to stop soon.”

They’ve been driving for nearly six hours now.

The brothers had only given her enough time to pack a small suitcase before they were basically shoving her out the door, mumbling something about how they could go shopping for whatever else she needed once they were somewhere safer, and stuffing her and Grace and their kitten into the backseat of the shiny black Camero with the ridiculously tinted windows they were currently driving.

Twenty-four hours ago she was home.

Kate had been sitting at home, watching _Pocahontas_ in her pajamas while Grace played at braiding her hair and sang along to _Colors of the Wind_. They’d been sharing an indulgent box of pizza with mushrooms and bacon pieces and there was still a carton of vanilla ice cream waiting for them in her freezer. Her only concern had been when to schedule their upcoming trip to the zoo, and whether the little boy she took care of would like to tag along with them. Her baby would be starting preschool soon, and once she did Kate had every intention of going back to school to get a degree, so she wanted to take the maximum advantage of their time together.

They didn’t have a lot, but Kate was damn proud of what she’d accomplished so far. Her daughter had been happy and safe and so full of confidence that it made her heart swell every time she thought about it. They were self-reliant and sufficient and they were each other’s entire universe.

That was all gone now.

Because Seth was back, as quick and violent as the first time, and all ideals of normalcy were swept away like dust blown out into the wind.

“What?” he questions, giving them both a quick glance over his shoulder before focusing back on the road. It’s nearing midnight now, and they both knew how dangerous the desert could be at night.   

“We need to stop soon,” Kate repeats, watching the way Grace was quietly squirming in her seat and wringing her fingers together. Her little girl wasn’t used to long trips, and she knew that she was in desperate need of a restroom and a chance to stretch her legs, even if she had too many manners to throw a fit about it. “Somewhere clean and well-lit, please.”

“We’re about fifteen miles from El Paso,” Seth responds, stepping on the accelerator. “Can she make it a couple more minutes ‘til we get there?”

“Yes,” Grace pipes up, petting the kitten that was curling up in her arms and whispering, “Luna is hungry,’ which was a habit she’d picked up a couple of weeks ago while she’d been going through a rebellious phase and wanted to eat nothing besides spaghetti and macaroni.

“Are you sure it’s Luna who’s hungry?” Kate whispered back, leaning her head down so her chin would rest against her daughter’s temple and brushing her fingertips across the girl’s belly until she erupted in a fit of giggles. “Because I seem to remember us skipping dinner.”

“She wants chicken nuggets,” Grace conspired, keeping her voice quiet and filled with laughter. “And lots of fries.”

“I think Luna’s forgetting that we already had pizza last night,” she reminds her, arching an amused eyebrow when Grace smiles wide and deceptively guiltless at her. “We’re supposed to be having something warm and healthy tonight.”

“But we’re on a trip,” she answers rapidly, as if that was ultimately the deciding factor in her little argument. “We always eat fries on trips.”

Kate doesn’t get a chance to respond.

“There’s a diner there that has the best milkshakes in all of Texas,” Richie cuts in, no doubt using his enhanced hearing to pick up on their quiet conversation over the thrum of the car’s engine. “We can all pick what we want to eat.”

“Can we, Mommy?” Grace questions her, looking up at her with her big green eyes and a few strands of hair covering her face. She can see the brother’s reflections on the rearview mirrors, too, both waiting with baited breaths for her reaction.

Kate wonders if this is what her life is going to be like now.

Because this is the second time that Richie has used her daughter’s purity and youth against her, unconsciously as it may seem.  This is the second time in less than half a day that he’s directed his questions at Grace in order to push her into a corner and get the result he wanted. They were all taking everything that was normal and routine for the little girl and turning it upside-down. Kate knew far too well what abrupt changes could do to children if they felt like they were out of their element and didn’t have lifeline to hold onto.

She intended to be that lifeline and focus of stability for her child.

And, while she might not hate Richie and she might not find him responsible for what happened to her family, it still doesn’t mean that she trusts him or wants him influencing her daughter.

It was hard enough to accept the role that Seth has and would no doubt want to implement in Grace’s life without adding the other brother into the mix.

Yeah, because she’s really stupid enough to believe you can have one without the other.

Seth and Richie, they’re a packaged deal, and no amount of denial is going to make that fact disappear.

But she will not let them turn her into the bad guy for being the only one who believed in being responsible.

“Just for tonight,” Kate finally agrees, squeezing her daughter closer when the little girl grins in excitement and victory. “Tomorrow we go right back on track.”

She doesn’t feel like saying anything more until they get to El Paso.

_Annie’s_ is a twenty-four-hour diner located minutes before crossing into the city. It has the same vintage feel that used to be so popular in the 70s and Kate is half-expecting for the waitresses to be wearing roller-skates. There’s a Chevron station right next to it and a drive-in rest stop on the opposite side. A peek through the Camero’s window and she can spot a few more families sitting inside or taking a minute walk around the pleasant lot.

Richie’d been right.

It’s not a bad place to stop.

“Okay, folks,” Seth instructs as soon as he shuts the car off and Kate guides the kitten into her traveling crate. “Let’s do this as quickly as possible so we can head on out.”

“We’re going to be fine, Brother,” Richie tries to reassure him, but Seth continues to shrug him off.  

The minute they cross into the diner Grace is pulling on her sleeves, dragging her along in search of a restroom and shouting directions behind her for the brothers to wait for her before they get anything. Kate follows her daughter, helps her clean up and wash her hands and she thinks that maybe her mind is starting to call it quits on her because she feels as if she’s running on autopilot; going through the motions and still on high-alert but emotionally exhausted.

“I like Seth and Richie,” Grace informs her, beaming at her while she dried her hands with a paper towel. “Your friends are really nice, Mommy.”

Her words, along with the innocence with which they’d been presented, feel like a knife aimed right for her gut.

Apparently, there was still room in her heart to feel guilty tonight.

“That’s really good, baby,” Kate murmurs, reaching out her hand for the tiny girl to grasp and leading her back into the hall. “I know that they really like you, too.”

When they spot the brothers, it’s to find them sitting across from each other in a corner booth and exchanging harsh whispers, with Seth looking like he’s two seconds away from punching Richie in the face.

So, you know, business as usual.

What’s not normal is Grace deciding to pull her hand free from her own and bounce along until she’s taking a seat beside Seth, grabbing for one of the kid’s menus with the coloring section with all the elegance and autonomy that a four-year old could project. The only seat left open is the one next to Richie, and she doesn’t have to wonder which one of the brothers decided to make their inconvenient seating chart.

Kate almost thanks God aloud when the waitress shows up.

“So,” the blonde teenager asks, cheerful and polite and doing her absolutely best not to look too mesmerized by her table’s current occupants. “Is everybody ready to order?”

Kate can only imagine what they look like.

The brothers, with their dark suits and hostile personalities; her, with her still too-young looks and a child glued to her waist, and Grace, with her curious eyes and her father’s face – all driving into this quaint little diner in the middle of the night in a brand new sports car and sitting far too tense to fool much of anyone.

Hence, she won’t take it too personally that the girl is feeling odd.

She’d be more surprised if she didn’t immediately call Social Services.

“I want a cheeseburger with fries and a coke.”

“The same for me,” Seth adds.

“Me, too,” Kate agrees, not even bothering to open up her own menu before looking up at the waitress and reciting her daughter’s favorite order. “And she’ll have the Chicken Nuggets with French Fries and a glass of chocolate milk.”

“Horchata!” Grace giggles, pointing to a picture of the beverage on her menu and Kate has no idea what the hell is going on when Richie’s mouth breaks out into a grin and Seth drops his head forward and groans underneath his breath and the waitress stares at them all like they’re insane.

It doesn’t take her much longer to hurry away.

“Hey, Grace,” Richie speaks up again, waiting for her to put her colors down before continuing. “Do you have any nicknames you like people calling you?”

“Nicky calls me Gracie,” she answers, scrunching her nose in concentration before grinning at her own memories. “And Shawn calls me Grasshopper because I’m always jumping all over the place.”

Seth does not look impressed.

“You know,” the youngest Gecko continues, pretending like he didn’t see the warning glares being directed his way. “My brother and I give everyone we like a special nickname.”

Now Grace is interested. “Did my mommy have one?”

“Katie-,” Richie begins to blab, and Kate prepares herself to hear the familiar term he’d stolen away from her father but Seth cuts him off.

“I called your mom, ‘ _Princess’_ ,” he answers, watching the smile that blooms on Grace’s face as she claps her hands in excitement at her mother being referred to as such. “Because she was as pretty as one.”

“I always tell Mommy she’s beautiful,” Grace agrees vehemently, and Kate feels her heart flourish and break simultaneously. “Everybody thinks so!”

“I’ve got one for you, too, if you don’t mind.”

Jesus Christ, it’s like watching two trains that are about to collide.

“What is it?” she questions, nearly bouncing in her seat with giddiness as she leans closer to him and shifts so they can stare at each other clearly.

“You, little lady, are very, very important to me,” Seth clarifies, offering his hands until Grace places her delicate ones on top of his palms, and Kate doesn’t miss the strength and devotion behind his words. “And, because of that, I’m going to call you ‘Gigi’.”

Gigi.

G.G.

Grace Gecko.

And if waiting for it felt like waiting for the trains to crash, then making the connection was the equivalent of her being thrown onto the tracks right before impact.

He’s staring at her now: waiting for her reaction and daring her to stand against him.

Kate knows him enough to understand what he’s telling her without even having to open his mouth.

‘I am simply here for what is mine.’

She’d taken his family from him, and now he was taking it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone liked this chapter. It's a bit of a filler, but it had to be done this way for the plot's sake. Next up, we finally get to Houston and back into the action part of this story and Aunty Santanico gets to shine.  
> But first, Seth Gecko's gotta explain to dear ol' Uncle Eddie where the little girl with his face came from and just what he was thinking when he got a teenager knocked up. Fun times. 
> 
> Let me know what you think is going to happen! Or what you'd like to see happen!  
> Next update will be up this weekend!


	8. and i miss the lips that made me fly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so late! Hope you like it!

“You’re all that I hoped I’d find

In every single way

And everything I could give

Is everything you couldn’t take.”

-Miserable at Best

…

“I can explain.”

“Oh, really?” Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he pauses his pacing and glares at him. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days and his age is finally catching up to him – hair more salt now than pepper – and Seth knows he doesn’t fare any better. “You can explain the teenager in my living room with the little girl that looks just like you?”

“She’s not a teenager-.,” he tries to defend himself, but shuts right up when the older man narrows his eyes at him in violent defiance and _dares_ him to try and plead his sins away. “…anymore.”

They’d gotten to _Fast Eddie’s_ minutes before sunrise, and Seth had hoped his uncle would be at _Jacknife Jed’s_ with Santanico. Eddie might not be in top physical shape anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still plan and hustle better than any man on the block and the brothers had taken advantage of that. Still, the man was eccentric, at his best, and the last thing he’d wanted to do was have Kate and Grace bump into him before he’d had a chance to explain their delicate situation.

If he could he would’ve taken them straight to Jed’s: locked them all up underground and set up an extra security detail to ensure no one could touch them. It’d taken him a long time but he’d finally realized that culebras, for all their faults, were _loyal_. They served their king (or _kings_ , as the situation might call for) and would die for him. If he gave the order, every single one of them would fight unbeatable odds before disobeying him or his brother.

But he couldn’t march in there and expect for Kate not to pick up on all their daily dealings the moment she stepped inside. As far as he knows, she still saw culebras as Enemy Number One and would rather take her chances on her own again before allowing their daughter to be surrounded by them. And that’s without even taking into consideration how she would react when she found out about all the drugs and guns and cash they had their hands in and how deep their pockets had gotten.  

(No girls, though: _never_ any girls or other people getting hurt.)

“Goddammit, I expect this kind of shit from your brother, Seth,” he accuses, serving himself a shot of bourbon and pouring it down his throat before slamming the glass back on the table. “You’re supposed to be the reasonable one. What, you couldn’t find someone legal in all of fucking Mexico that you had to chase after jailbait? Please tell me you didn’t force that girl into anything or I swear to God I will shoot you myself.”

Seth bristles.

Because, yeah, he might be an asshole, but he’s not a _fucking_ asshole.

Regardless of popular opinion.

“It wasn’t like that,” he vows, running a hand through his hair in exasperation and guilt and frustration and every other feeling he’s been carrying on his shoulders for the past five years. Funny, how he’d spent so long living in denial, and now that he’d finally faced himself the weight of it all left him feeling like he’d just taken a shot in the back. “It was right after the Twister and when everything went to hell with Richie. I was in a dark place, and I’m not excusing myself, but I didn’t force her into anything.”

Eddie doesn’t look convinced. “How did she even end up with the lot of you?”

Jesus, he doesn’t want to answer that.

He doesn’t want to stand here and tell his uncle every single one of his downfalls. He doesn’t want to face his faults and remember his mistakes and admit aloud to him and himself just what a fucking failure he’d been. He doesn’t want to list every reason why Kate is right to be so afraid of them – why he can’t really bring himself to blame and hate her for running from him and hiding his kid.

Why maybe he should’ve let her stay that way.

He doesn’t want to tell Eddie why she wasn’t with him any longer; why he’d shown up here with another girl and failed to ever mention the only one who’d mattered. He doesn’t want to explain how he’d been cold and cruel to her when all she’d needed was a touch of kindness and how he’d been responsible for taking everything away from her. He doesn’t want to accept he was the reason she’d been broken and ruined the day she walked out of his life.

He doesn’t want to confess just how much like his father he’d been.

“We took her family hostage.”

“You did _what_?” Eddie questions, and Seth has no doubt that his uncle heard him loud and clear. No, this is simply him ensuring that he understands the depth of the stupidity the two boys he’d helped raise had exhibited the moment they were completely on their own.

Because that’s always been Eddie’s code: _you don’t hurt anyone you don’t have to_.

And, God, they hadn’t _had_ to.

The Fullers should have never crossed paths with them.  

And he could try and justify himself and his choices and argue with his conscious about how he’d needed them to get across the border, but there’s no person or God who will ever believe any excuse he swears and gives for not releasing them as soon as they crossed over. There’s no reason in any world in which he could explain why he’d forced that family into stepping foot in the Twister or why he hadn’t touched his heart for a just a fucking moment and let them go – let _her_ go – when she’d begged him for their freedom.

Goddammit, even Richard, half-out of his mind, had seen Reason.

Every drop of blood that stained her skin was on _him_.

“They had an RV and we needed it to get across the border after Richie sprung me from jail and we robbed the bank in Abilene. They were only supposed to drive us across the border and then we were all going in our merry ways.”

“Boy,” he scowls, starring at him in disgust and disbelief. “You and your brother have done a lot of stupid shit but this one takes the cake. Did I stutter when I told you we don’t take hostages? Because I thought I was crystal-clear when I told you we don’t put people in danger that way.”

‘ _It wasn’t stupid, it was selfish_ ,’ Seth wants to yell, but wisely decides to keep that observation locked up in his chest.

“It was our only way out, okay?” he defends himself, but the excuse sounds weak, even to him, and he adds in a truth to balance his blame. “Nobody was supposed to get hurt.”

“You said ‘they’ had an RV,” Eddie questions, leaning back against his chair and straightening up his spine; a side effect from the injury the Regulator left him as his parting gift. “What happened to the rest of them?”

Has he ever stopped to mention how much he dislikes his Uncle at times?

Seth sighs, resigning himself to his faith and rationalizing that it was better to get all the ugly truth out of the way if he wanted to have a real shot at building something good with his misfit family.

It doesn’t mean it makes this any easier.

“You know that kid that’s always with Carlos, Scott?”

“The Asian boy?”

“That’s her brother. He got turned into a culebra by Carlos and he bit their father and wanted to turn her, too,” the eldest Gecko sighs, shaking his head at the memory and hating the feeling that he was betraying Kate’s trust by giving away her secrets. “Kate told me her dad asked her to kill him before he could turn into one of them, so like, do me a favor and try not to go around asking her about her family.”

Eddie turns solemn. “What kind of man forces his daughter to kill him?”

“The kind that believes in God and wants to go to Heaven,” Seth answers. “You’ve seen what that shit venom makes people do; Jacob was a good man who made bad choices – let’s leave it at that.”

The both stay silent after that, and Seth dedicates a moment of silence for the man’s memory.

“Okay,” Eddie exhales, taking the time to process everything he’d just been told. “But what the hell happened? Because when you showed up here you had Sonja with you and you both looked awfully chummy.”

He really, _really_ , doesn’t like Eddie sometimes.

How does one say, “ _that backstabbing bitch was with me because she helped me get clean after I almost overdosed on heroin after I abandoned a seventeen-year-old girl I slept with on the side of the road minutes after she’d almost been killed and told her that everyone she loved was dead just because she wanted me to help her look for her brother instead of spending all her time taking all my shit and making sure I didn’t drown in my own vomit and I needed someone who made me feel like I was everything they needed and she was a replacement I tricked myself into believing she could be_ ” politely? How does one explain that?

Simple: one doesn’t.

“Sonja was a mistake.”

If only Eddie would ever drop a subject that easily. “And that girl out there ain’t?”

Seth doesn’t have to think about it.

“No,” he answers immediately. “She’s not.”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess you didn’t know about the baby, either.”

“Goddammit, of course not,” he groans, clenching his fingers into fists and squeezing them shut until they feel seconds away from breaking under the strain. “I would’ve never left her if I’d known.”

Eddie’s not done getting his answers. “Do I even want to know what happened between the two of ya?”

The usual Gecko motive, Uncle Eddie; I was an asshole.

“I fucked up,” he admits, and on this front he refuses to place an inch of blame on her shoulders. “I honestly don’t know how she took so much of my shit for so long. Just, take it easy on her, alright? She barely trusts me and the last thing she needs is to deal with even more of this family’s crazy.”

A beautiful minute to catch his breath, and then:

“You understand that you’re responsible for them now, don’t you? Everything that you do has a direct impact on her and on your little girl. You can’t be going off all half-cocked and getting yourself killed or putting your family in danger.”

_His family._

“I know,” Seth agrees, leaning his head back and staring at the ceiling because has it really only been less than a day since he found out about them? How could his life take such a drastic and immediate change in less than a sunset? “Jesus, don’t you think I’ve thought about that? And trust me when I tell you that her mother will kill me and every single one of us before she lets us put Grace in danger. Believe me when I tell you that I’m going to do right by them.”

And maybe the older man finally sees the sincerity he was searching for, because he relents in his questions and offers his very first traces of empathy and compassion.

“That little girl,” he murmurs, and Seth looks down just in time to catch the wistful expression in his eyes. “It’s just like looking at your mother.”

“I know,” he agrees, and the emotion that swells in the pit of his stomach is not pride or happiness but something so much more raw and fierce and _basic_ that he knows, without a doubt, he will fight until his last breath to love and cherish and protect his daughter from everyone and everything. “It’s the first thing I thought when I saw her.”

“I pray to God that she takes after her and her mother and not the fucking Gecko side of the family.”

There is about zero reason for him to be offended with the validity of that statement.

“So do I, Uncle Eddie,” he echoes. “So do I.”

“Now let’s go outside so you can properly introduce me,” he demands, standing up from his seat and buttoning up his Hawaiian shirt so he can look a bit more presentable. “Besides, your brother is probably already driving that girl crazy.”

Turns out, he wasn’t too far off the mark.

Because when they walk out of Eddie’s room and back into the living and kitchen area, Kate is standing her ground and gritting her teeth and his brother looks far too relaxed and sure of himself – like a man who didn’t spend three months sharing his every moment with her and is unaware of just how dangerous and angry Kate Fuller could be – as he lounges against their refrigerator.  

Whatever.

He’s not going to intervene.

His brother deserves whatever hell Kate wants to rain down on him.

“Richard, for the last time, stop calling my daughter _Lizard_.”

“I don’t understand why Seth gets to give her a nickname and I don’t,” Richie scoffs, arching an eyebrow. “It’s rude to make your favoritism so obvious.”

“Because Seth is her father and I can’t stop him,” she replies in a harsh whisper, lowering her voice to not wake up Grace, who’s sleeping peacefully on the couch with her kitten curled up against her under the thin blanket. “But _you_ are not and my daughter is a _Fuller_ , not a Gecko.”

Ouch.

“Can’t deny the truth forever, Katie-Cakes.”

Bad move, wise-ass.

“I swear to God, I will stab you if you call me that again.”

“I see that motherhood has turned you violent.”

Goddammit, Richie, do you really want to die that much?

“Not violent,” she clarifies, but the expression on her face begs to differ. “ _Protective_ ; so don’t be surprised the day I shove you outside and let you turn to ash under the sun.”

Now that’s his Partner right there.

“Leave that girl alone, boy,” Eddie demands, stepping into the kitchen and smacking Richie on the back of the head. “She has enough to deal with without you both making her life any harder.”

“Kate,” Seth calls out, waiting for her to turn her glare away from his brother and look at him. “This is our Uncle Eddie. We’re going to be staying here for a couple of days before I can move you and Grace into our main base.”

She nods, taking a few steps forward until she’s standing in front of the man in question and stretching out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Southern manners and all that.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Eddie greets back, shaking her hand but keeping his reserved stance. “Feel free to use anything you like and let me know if there’s anything you or your little girl need.”

“Actually,” she sighs, pausing halfway to take a deep breath and Seth can tell that it’s killing her to have to ask. “Would you mind if I used your kitchen? My daughter hasn’t eaten anything since midnight and I know she’s going to be hungry when she wakes up.”

“Of course, darling. Just let me know if you need anything else and I’ll grab it when I head out for breakfast in a few minutes.”

“I can cook for all of us,” Kate offers, clearing her throat and looking surprisingly nervous. “I mean, I don’t mind. My momma taught me how when I was still a little kid. I used to help her with all her bake sales.”

“Well, it’s just not in me to decline a home-cooked meal when it’s offered,” Eddie grins, and Seth wants to sign in relief when Kate finally seems to start breathing a little bit easier; not relaxed, by any means, but at least not as tense as she’d been in the car with them. “Give me a list and I’ll run to the store as soon as you’re ready.”

“I want Blueberry Pancakes with bacon,” Richie immediately commands, and Seth can’t hold his laughter in when Kate snaps back at him with, “you get nothing” in less than a heartbeat.

“Mommy, why are you being mean to Richie?”

Everyone freezes then, and all stares turn to Grace as she stumbles into the kitchen, still more asleep than anything. Her long locks are messy and her eyes are glazed and none of that matters because this girl is far too curious and she won’t go back to bed without her answers.

Kate is mortified.

He has no doubt that she’s never been less than an excellent mother and role model for their daughter, and it wasn’t fair to have all that work and dedication thrown out the window because she had the misfortune of being stuck with two brothers who were guaranteed to bring the worst out of everyone they surrounded. The last thing he’s ever going to do is try and steal her daughter away or pit them against each other.

This right here?

This was how he was going to start proving to her that she could trust him.

“It’s not your mom’s fault, kiddo,” Seth cuts in, kneeling down beside Grace as the little girl uses her fists to rub away her sleep. “It’s just that Richie likes to tell a lot of jokes because he thinks he’s funny, and he forgets that sometimes people aren’t up to hearing them.”

“Oh,” she hums, not completely convinced but willing to let it go, most likely because the extra man in the room has now caught her attention. She steps closer, and Seth feels his heart speed up and his palms begin to sweat when she leans against him and rests her head on his shoulder, yawning and curling up like her kitten. “Who is he?”

“Name’s Uncle Eddie, ladybug,” his uncle introduces himself, quietly groaning as he forces himself to squat down, regardless of his back injury and how much pain the action was causing him. “And who may you be?”

“Grace,” she offers, turning bashful and burying her face in Seth’s shoulder to hide away her smile but still peeking from underneath his jaw. And then, out of nowhere, one of her tiny hands reaches across his chest and up his side until her nimble fingers can grip onto the bottom of his earlobe and rub it between her thumb and index. “But Seth calls me Gigi.”

And, really, he knows that Kate will probably want to kill him for it later, but he’s not going to deny himself this. Not when the little girl he’d never even knew existed is comfortably pressing up against him to rest as if he was an old family friend rather than a stranger she’d just met. Not when she’s wrapping her thin little arms around his neck and trusting him to protect her as much as a child her age could understand an adult was capable of.

Not when it was his first time really holding his daughter.

So he scoops his hand beneath her knees and pulls her closer, straightening up with her cradled in his arms and fighting off the urge to cry when her own arms wrap around his shoulders in what might be an easy gesture for her but means the world to him.

Because _this is it._

This is _home_ , and it’s so much better than sunlit beaches and blue agave or the not-so-false promises of freedom in El Rey that used to play his soul like a siren.

This is _real_.

“Well, little Miss Gigi,” Eddie winks at her, making a show of taking a step back so he can take a bow and smiling when Grace laughs in delight. “Welcome to the Family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think???  
> I probably jumped the gun here but I'M SORRY DADDY SETH NEEDED A HUG PEOPLE.  
> In Lari's words, so does Kate, but she's more likely to really stab someone if any of them try to step into her personal space right this minute.  
> Also, the Lizard nickname was not my idea, but AForgottenWeasley's! and shout-out to Stacey for taking all my bullshit Feels and Rants and for her daily reminders to update! And to Lari because she's my main squeeze and MVP always okay.  
> Also, I wrote a 100% certified fluff piece called "Give Me The Stars" so feel free to check that out if you feel like reading a sappy and inappropriate Seth Gecko.  
> Let me know what you want to see happen next!


	9. you never even kissed me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter might be my favorite thing I've written in a long time. Hope you enjoy!

_“But in these pictures_

_I can’t not hear her_

_And all I see is all I know.”_

-Time Moves Quickly

…

She ends up cooking omelets.

A quick rummage through the kitchen and it’d been easy to see that, while their Uncle Eddie had an impressive amount of exotic coffee brands and a mug collection that was borderline obsessive, his pantry was lacking in food of actual substance. So, she’d done what she always does best and she’d improvised, rather than waiting until one of them did a grocery run. Twenty minutes later and she’d had breakfast ready for everyone.

Seth still hadn’t put Grace down.

He’d spent the entire time she cooked walking around the living room, pointing out different artifacts to the girl in his arms and fascinating her with anecdotes. Kate could hear her daughter laughing and asking questions, pointing in all directions as he followed her every command. It wasn’t until she’d called her in to eat that he’d set her down, and there wasn’t much she could do about him taking the seat right beside her.

Honestly, she’s okay with it.

Because Kate can hear their conversation, and Seth’s being careful to avoid making any promises or offhanded comments. He’s not fishing for information to bring her down or make her look bad. He’s simply asking her the things that any father would know: what’s your favorite color? TV show? What about flavor of ice cream? Do you like cookies or brownies? What do you like playing best?

And for every question he asks, he adds in his own responses, like: _my favorite color is green, but when I was little it used to be red_ , and _Richie and I watched a lot of movies when we were kids and used to love the ones with Clint Eastwood and John Wayne_ , and _one time I ate so much chocolate fudge ice cream that my mom didn’t let me eat anything sweet for two whole weeks_ , and _I used to be the quarterback on the football team when I was in middle school_.    

All he’s doing is trying to build a connection with his daughter, and Kate will not fault him for it.

The time for that was over.

“We need to go to the store,” she tells Seth once they’re done with breakfast, waiting until Grace is off washing her hands in the restroom to bring up the subject. “You didn’t really give me much time to pack and there’s a lot of things I’m missing and that she’s going to need.”

“Can you make me a list?” he counters, squaring back his shoulders in the same way she’d learned long ago meant he was nervous. “I’ll send someone out to get whatever you need.”

“But I wanted to -”, she tries to argue, because she’s in need of some fresh air and time with her daughter away from all this insanity, but he won’t budge.

“Just give me some time to get things ready, alright?” he bargains, and his voice drops a pitch when he leans forward to explain his motives. “Carlos knows we operate out of here and our other location. I know he’s got people planted and feeding him intel, and I don’t want to risk you both before I know you’ll be protected. I don’t think he knows about Grace yet, and I’d really like to keep things that way.”

What could she possibly argue against that?

“Okay,” she agrees, and the sigh of relief he releases almost brings a smile to her face. “But just remember that she’s still a little girl. We can’t keep her locked up forever. She’s used to going out to play and walking in the park and having friends. She won’t understand why she can’t do any of those things anymore and I don’t want to scare her with the truth.”

“She’ll have all those things back,” he vows, and the sincerity in his voice leaves no room for doubt. “I promise you that everyone in this family is going to do everything they can to make sure she has a beautiful life.”

And there’s something in his stare; a glint of desperation that’s begging her to believe him and put just a little bit of faith in him. He’s not asking her to fall in love with him or run to tell their daughter he’s her father or even to close her eyes and accept that he’s a changed man that wants nothing more than to give his family Sunday picnics and a white-picket fence. He’s not asking her to throw away her caution or to feel okay with leaving Grace out of her sights or with having his brother near them.

No.

All he’s asking is that she trusts that he would never hurt their child.

All he wants is for her to believe that he already loves Grace and would lay down his life without regret if it meant she got to keep breathing and be happy.

All he needs is one shot at being a good father.

“I believe you,” she breathes out, and the relief that so obviously washes over him is enough to make her own eyes tear. “I know you can do this.”

She doesn’t have to hear the words to know just what he wants to tell her.

_Thank you._

“Mommy, can we go play outside?”

They both turn their attention to Grace, who’s back from the restroom and has managed to splash water all over her sleeves.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now, baby,” Kate starts to explain, but then her daughter – her ridiculously smart and impish daughter – angles her head so she’s staring straight at Seth.

“Please, Mr. Seth? Can we play outside? I promise I’ll be good! Just for a little while!”

She’s bouncing on her heels, full of energy now that she’s fully awake and has gotten some food into her system, flashing him her widest smile and batting her doe eyes at Seth to get what she wants. Kate is more than aware of how mischievous and persistent her little angel could be when she felt like getting up to trouble. She’s got enough years and experiences under her belt to know how to resist that blatant attack of cuteness.

Seth, however, has about _zero_ resistance built into him.

Goodness, he looks like he’s about to grab her hand and take her cruising outside through the middle of town, regardless of the whole speech about safety he’d given her only seconds ago.

Obviously, it’s going to be up to Kate to keep her daughter from getting completely spoiled because these Tough Guys, who were all bona fide hardened criminals, couldn’t say ‘ _no’_ to a toothy grin and big green eyes.

“Grace,” Kate calls her, voice stern and full of authority. “I said we weren’t doing that right now. Understood?”

The little girl pouts, drooping her shoulders but otherwise posing no more objections. “Yes, Mommy.”

“Now, how about you go bring your backpack and we can color a picture together?” She suggests, and Kate can’t help but smile when her own blossoms on Grace’s face. “Maybe you can draw one for Mr. Eddie as a Thank You for letting us stay here while we visit.”

“Okay!”

And then she’s off, running towards the sofa to pick up the pink backpack she’s packed herself and searching for the rest of her crayons.

“Jesus, how the hell do you stop yourself from giving into whatever she asks for?” Seth ponders under his breath, looking as perplexed as a person could be while he scratches the back of his neck and blinks his eyes to shake off the effect. “I’ve got no clue what I’m in for, do I?”

He sounds so confused, and looks just as hopeless, but overall there’s this excitement shinning on his face; like he seriously _cannot wait_ for those opportunities to arise – all the experiences he’d missed out on and is completely dedicated to bring into his life.

“She’ll have you all watching Disney movies and hosting tea parties before you even know it,” Kate teases, feeling the first flutters of hope for a better future graze against her lungs when Seth groans and drops his head on the table in a complete show of faux theatrics. “Welcome to the wonderful world of Parenthood, Mr. Gecko: feel free to leave your Dignity and Pride at the door after you pick up your tiara.”

“I’m all in, Fuller,” he swears, and maybe there was something in her omelets, because she believes it. “Sign me up.”

“Do you want to color with us?” Grace questions him, arms loaded with crayons and paper and doing her best not to drop anything as she walks towards them with her kitten curling in-between her feet as it follows her owner. “Oh! Do you know how to draw a mermaid? We’ve been trying but Mommy and me aren’t very good at it.”

“You’ve got me there, Gigi,” Seth responds, helping her carry the materials towards the kitchen table and then giving her a boost onto her chair. “I’m not very good at drawing, either, but Richie is. We’ll ask him to draw you one when he wakes up from his nap later, alright?”

“Yes!” she giggles, and the genuine excitement in her voice, mixed with the idea of watching Richie struggle to draw Ariel later on, is enough to make Kate join in with her own laughter. “Maybe he can do Flounder, too!”

They spend the next twenty minutes drawing random pictures. Grace has a penchant for rainbows and teddy bears, and she fills up four different pages with her own take on the entire Care Bear repertoire. Seth is working on something that she’s guessing is supposed to represent some sort of dinosaur, but he’s got the head-to-body ratio completely off, as his daughter so kindly pointed out, and Kate – much more realistic in her own artistic talent – is sticking to hearts and flowers.

Overall, it feels _right_.

It feels like a taste of what could have been, and for the first time in a long time, Kate wonders if she made the right choice when she left.

And then Grace starts singing.

“ _You belong among the wildflowers, you belong somewhere close to me. Far away from your trouble and worries; you belong somewhere you feel free_.”

Kate freezes, and out of the corner of her eye she can see Seth doing the same thing.

Somehow, he recovers first.

“Grace,” he calls, sounding thick and rough and choked. “Where do you know that song from?”

Kate wants to interfere. She wants to open her mouth and explain but the words won’t come out and the air leaves her lungs faster than she can pull it in.

“Mommy always sings it to me when I can’t sleep.”

“Oh,” he responds, and Kate can only nod when he stands up and turns to her this time. “Can I talk to you over here for a second?”

“We’ll be right back, baby,” she reminds Grace, patting down her hair and running her palm against her cheek to encourage her to continue coloring, before following Seth across the room and out of their daughter’s hearing range.

“Why?” is all he asks, and it breaks her heart because this is the first time that he’s staring at her without anger or resentment or disbelief. There’s only one emotion present in him, and she hates that her own lack of explanations is the root of it.

He’s _hurt_.

Because once, back after the Twister but before the drugs, there’d been a time when things hadn’t looked so bleak for them: back when they’d both been angry and in denial and had recklessly wanted to believe that it could truly be just them together and against the world – their very own modern version of Bonnie & Clyde – there’d been genuine _trust_.

They’d spent more than one night stranded in the middle of the dessert; seats of the convertible leaned all the way back and staring at the starry skies in the middle of a summer night, too tired of spending all their days on the run or cooped up in shitty motels that felt the same regardless of where they stopped: bathing in moonlight and unfulfilled promises as they wrapped themselves with a cool breeze and the smell of the cheap beer and diet soda she liked to drink as the radio played classic rock in the background.

She’d told him everything and nothing.

Kate had told him about being homeschooled for most of her life and about the girls that used to pick on her because she was the pastor’s daughter and about how she’d already bought her dress for Homecoming when her Daddy drove them to Mexico. She told him about spending all her weekends learning how to cook with her mother and how their pie had won the carnival competition for three years in a row and how she’d always wanted a dog but couldn’t have one because of Scott’s allergies.

She hadn’t told him about how many times she saw her mother curled up and crying and how she’d believed her father killed her for a time or that she’d barely been able to function when she died or that she’d hated her brother when they first brought him home or that she’d been the one to drive a stake through her Daddy’s heart seconds after his eyes turned gold.

And Seth had done the same for her.

He’d talked to her about jobs he’d pulled and cars he’d owned and he’d passed on the stories his Uncle Eddie seemed to have in spades. He wouldn’t mention Richie or the Twister or the bank or any of the other subjects they’d hear about on the local news in relation to the Geckos.

Except one night a Tom Petty song started playing on the radio.

She’d been seconds away from falling asleep when his voice had broken through the relative silence, barely above a whisper, but lacking any of his usual bravado.

“You know, my mom used to love listening to this guy when we were kids.”

“Yeah?” she’d asked, shifting on her seat so she could get a better look at him and quietly encouraging him to keep going.

“Yeah,” he’d confirmed, still staring at the sky. “She used to pop in his records and sing along whenever she was cleaning and our old man wasn’t home. And even when she left, Richie and I never stopped listening to him, either. I don’t know; I guess it just helps me clear my head sometimes.”

“It makes you feel close to her,” she’d murmured, reaching across the seat and placing her hand on top of his in a quiet offer of comfort. “I do the same thing, too, except my momma would listen to Bob Dylan.”

He hadn’t answered anything after that, but what he did do was turn his hand over so her fingers could fall between his as she wrapped them together in appreciation.

“Go to sleep, Princess,” he’d encouraged her, done with their conversation for the night and pressing the button for the roof of the car to come back up seconds after turning on the heater. “We’ve got a long drive for tomorrow.”

That night was a lifetime ago.

And now they were here, and she has no doubt that he believes she’d made a mockery of his memory. But, God, he could not be more mistaken.

“Because I wanted you to be there.”

“What?” he demands, confused and upset and letting in the first traces of anger slip back in. “I couldn’t be there if I didn’t know about her: you made damn sure of that.”

“I know,” she agrees, rushing to explain herself in the best way she can, even if it’ll never be enough. “I just, I couldn’t tell her your _name_ – but I wanted her to know who _you_ were. I wanted her to grow up with the parts of you I saw when we were together.”

He’s shaking his head, and the betrayal she’d seen on his face back in her apartment is there again. “I don’t fucking understand you. How does knowing what I listen to make a difference? She doesn’t know me from Adam; she thinks I’m just some guy you were friends with, and I get that – really, I do, but this shit is just cruel, Kate.”

“She doesn’t know your name because you are so much _more_ than that, Seth,” Kate presses on, stepping forward so she can grab onto his arms and hold him in place. She needs him to understand this; she needs him to believe her when she tells him that her choice to hide had nothing to do with _punishing_ him, but was based solely on what she felt in her heart was best for their baby. There’s no future for them if he doesn’t.

“I don’t regret being with you or that you’re her father,” she vows, and he stills, barely even breathing. “If I’d felt that there was a chance we could have been safe with you I wouldn’t have left. It was never about hurting you or me thinking you wouldn’t love or deserve her. I just had to do what I knew was best for her.”

He’s still not moving.

“You don’t know this yet, but she loves Classic Rock,” Kate keeps telling him. “Do you know how hard it is to find age-appropriate music in that genre? It was a headache, but I did it because I know it’s your favorite and I wanted her to have that, too. And she knows _Wildflowers_ because when she was a baby and she would cry at all hours of the night, I would sing it to her and it was like if you were there with us, too.”

“And when she got bigger and wanted me to tell her stories, I’d tell her the ones you told me, and I would tell her how I once knew a man who was like a real-life hero; how he would fight villains and kept the princess safe, even when they were both sad. And you don’t know this either, but her absolute favorite thing to do during the night is stare at the sky and talk about the stars, because we’d make a whole show out of camping out with our sleeping bags and hot chocolate on our tiny balcony, just like we used to when we were on the road.”

“I did the best I could, Seth,” she finishes, and her voice breaks just as the first rush of tears stream down her face. “I was young and scared and completely on my own but I never tried to hide you from her. She wasn’t going to grow up without your memory; God, you’re in _everything_ she does and in her whole personality and I’m sorry I hurt you but I hurt _me_ , too.”

She lets go of him so she can use her hands to cover her own eyes and wipe away her tears, but then he’s pulling her against him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders at the same time that her own wrap around his waist and she buries her face in his chest.

It’s not romantic and it’s not familial and it’s not pity.

Just like with his name, it’s so much more than one action.

It’s solidarity and it’s reassurance and it’s forgiveness and gratitude all melted into an embrace.

It’s a promise that she’ll never have to stand alone again. It’s an oath that he’ll never leave them. It’s a reminder that they are family.

He tucks her head under his chin, holding her so tight that she can’t move a muscle except to breathe, and whispers in her ear the words his pride had swallowed earlier. “ _Thank you_.”

It’s a beginning.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! As always, thank you for taking the time to leave me a comment!


	10. swung like an acrobat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! The past two weeks have been insane, between finals and packing up my house! Anyways, hope you like this one!

_“Your love was endless_

_You pushed so far_

_Soared like a golden god_

_Your silent heart.”_

-He Got Away

…

Someone is staring at him.

Seth might have been fast asleep a few minutes ago, but that doesn’t mean he can’t feel the weight of the gaze resting on him. It’s quiet, like an insisting hum coaxing him to wake up, and every instinct in his body shoots off.

Someone is staring at him.

His eyes snap open, hand immediately reaching for the gun tucked tightly below the cushion that was serving as his temporary pillow, when a pair of green eyes freeze him right on his tracks.

“Can we watch The Little Mermaid?”

Seth blinks.

Grace is standing in front of him, still wearing the pink footie-pajamas with purple flowers on them that Richie’d bought for her two days ago. Wayward strands of hair are sticking out from the French braid Kate liked to fix on her before bed and her loyal pet is curled up in her arms, sharing space with the bright blue DVD box in her hands.

It’s been eight days since they got to Eddie’s home, and Seth was just about ready to move them all into _Jed’s_. He’d gladly given up his room for Kate and Grace to use and had spent the past week crashing on his uncle’s sofa, barely getting any sleep between Richie being in and out all night and Grace waking up minutes after sunrise every morning and having people calling him at all hours of the day to ask about what needed to be done. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to physically leave the house, though, so he’d sucked it up and taken his sleep deprivation like a man.

No; like a _parent_.

Because it was worth it.

_It was so goddamned worth it_.

All he’d done for the past few days – aside from ensuring that their headquarters was being turned into a fucking fortress – was connect with his daughter. His days had consisted of entire afternoons spent playing Candyland and Connect 4 after Eddie brought home enough board games to entertain an entire classroom because ‘ _kids shouldn’t spend so much time watching TV, ya know? That shit will fry their brains_ ’ and sitting down on their living room floor with an entire stack of children’s books on his lap because Kate insisted that, ‘ _she needs to start recognizing words so we can enhance her language skills_ ’ and watching Richie and Grace go on for never-ending staring contests while they played Dominoes that left him exhausted because how two people could be so stubborn, Seth would never understand.

But that wasn’t everything.

Sure, the great majority of his time had been solely dedicated to his daughter, but he’d also done his absolute best to get back into Kate’s good graces. He’s not stupid enough to believe that what could only be described as her _breakdown_ a week ago – after all the trauma of having them come barging back into her life and the emotional rollercoaster that came hand-in-hand with that – meant that she was ready to welcome him into their lives with open arms. He was grateful that she was becoming more comfortable with them, and she’d stopped watching their every move out of the corner of her eye like a lioness protecting her cub, but that didn’t mean that she truly trusted them yet.

He fully intended to change that.

Which is why every day after Grace was laid down to sleep for the night he’d wait for Kate to come back out of his room and they would both sit in the kitchen, drinking coffee and flicking through a photo album she’d managed to pack into her bag before he’d pulled them out of their apartment. It was something akin to surreal to see his daughter at different stages of her short life – from being a rosy-cheeked baby with chubby little arms and a toddler who’d smile wide and impish as her mother photographed her to a cheeky little girl who knew how to have the world eating out of the palm of her hand – all those moments he’d missed and would never get back.

He hates that there’s no one to blame but himself.

But he knows things now; facts and anecdotes and small details that felt insignificant to the rest of the world but meant everything to a parent.

He knows, for example, that his daughter was born at 2:57 in the afternoon on July 17th, after ten hours of labor and walking around the halls of Saint Joseph’s Hospital in Phoenix. He knows that she was born measuring twenty inches and weighing six pounds and eight ounces, tiny and healthy and absolutely perfect. He knows that her first word was _Mama_ and that she took her first steps the day after her first birthday and that her favorite book used to be _The Little Prince_ but now it changed every day.  

Kate would tell him about staying up all night baking cupcakes with her and the mess they would make when they tried to frost them and that same high would turn solemn when she’d explain the three days she’d spent in and out of the hospital because Grace had a fever that wouldn’t go away when she was two years old. She’d told him about how they’d been collecting all type of butterfly artifacts for over a year now and how she’d spent a month creating the perfect fairy costume for last year’s Halloween Carnival.   

All her stories started the moment Grace was born and not a second prior.

It was an unspoken agreement between them that they wouldn’t mention their time in Mexico or the months she’d spent on her own, pregnant and scared and alone. Neither was ready to pull at scab to start healing the wound quite yet.

It still hurt like a motherfucker.

“What?”

“I want to watch Ariel,” she repeats in an exasperated sigh, leaning down to place Luna on the floor and jumping up and down on the heels of her feet as she holds the box up to him. “Please! Before Mommy wakes up!”

Seth tightens his hold on the gun under his pillow, shoving it against the corner of the couch and down tight between the cushions before pulling his arm back out and reaching for the box. A quick glance at his watch reveals that it’s ten past four in the morning – barely two hours since he’d relented on his nightly questioning and allowed Kate to go back to sleep – so it’s no wonder that Gigi had managed to sneak past her mother’s usually impeccable watch and scurried out into the living room. It hadn’t taken him very long to figure out that there was not much that could stop his daughter once she set her determined and brilliant mind on it.

She was a _Gecko_ , after all.

(And she could execute a plan just as well as the best of them.)

“Alright, Gigi,” Seth sighs, fully aware of how absolute useless he was when it came to denying her anything but immediately deciding that he could live with that knowledge when she smiled wide at him and her big green sparkled with joy. “But if we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it right. We need hot chocolate and cookies, and you, little ma’am, are going to come into the kitchen and help me out.”

He doesn’t have to tell her twice.

They spend the next half an hour in the kitchen, laughing and hushing each other when Seth bumps into a cabinet and Grace drops a bowl full of spoons and measuring cups. They’ve still got a good hour and a half before sunrise, and any small amount of sound echoes across the hall. The cookies are store-bought, because Seth is highly conscious of how useless he is in a kitchen and the last thing he wants to do is set his uncle’s house on fire, but the hot chocolate is something he can manage, even if it’s been over two decades since the last time he made it.

He could never forget his mother’s recipe.

Seth carries their steaming mugs into the living room and places them on the coffee table once they’re done, foregoing the clean-up for later in the day, and sticks the disk into the DVD player before taking his place back in the couch. He lifts the blanket he’d been using to sleep with and it feels like a punch to the gut when Grace takes the opening he’s offering and scooches closer to him, curling up against his side and resting her head on his chest as she pats her lap and calls out for her kitten. Seth wraps an arm around her shoulder, holding her closer and petting Luna until she’s purring loudly and Grace starts giggling.

That’s how Richie finds them fifteen minutes later, sitting in the dark living room and watching a teenaged mermaid sing about how she wanted to leave her kingdom in search of adventure. He doesn’t say a word as he takes a seat on the recliner directly besides them, and only smiles at his niece when she looks up at him in excitement. He eyes the mugs in front of them, and Seth doesn’t bother objecting when his brother reaches for the one closest to him.

“It’s just like mom’s,” Richie notes, curling his hands around the mug and making it obvious he’s not giving it back. “I’d almost forgotten how that tasted.”

Seth nods but doesn’t add anything else, because it’s not the time nor place to have that conversation.

Eddie’s up a couple of minutes later – no doubt being woken by the sound of Richie’s car pulling into the driveway – and Seth’s not even a bit surprised when he takes a seat at the end of the sofa he’s sharing with Grace, his own cup of coffee placed next to their chocolates.

It’s almost like looking into his past.

They’re all silent as the movie plays on, and Seth is doing his absolute best to shove down the dread that’s building up within him as the plot progresses because _Jesus Christ_ , his daughter’s favorite movie is one about a little girl who traded everything about herself to be with some guy she’d just, technically (because the freaking bro was passed out and drowning for fuck’s sake) met and he swears to God that if doing anything even _remotely_ similar to what Ariel did to Triton  ever crosses Grace’s mind he’s going to lock her up in Jed’s deepest layer and he’s never letting her out.

They barely even notice when she falls asleep.

“This film is absolutely ridiculous,” Richie scoffs, glaring at the image of Ariel crying because the prince was off to marry the sea witch. “How is someone really supposed to believe that they’d trade in an entire kingdom for someone they just met. Doesn’t she have any common sense? The Earth is seventy percent ocean, she can rule it all, and she’s going to trade it for some random guy who doesn’t even know he wants her? Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“It’s not about the fucking money, boy,” Eddie snaps, drinking the rest of his coffee and lowering his voice to appease his other nephew’s glare. “It’s about being independent and having some self-respect. How in the hell does her mother let her watch this shit?”

“Her mother understands that it’s only a movie,” Kate cuts him off, and they all turn to stare at her watching them from the hallway with her arms crossed below her chest. “And her mother has also spent her every waking moment ensuring that her daughter grows up being proud and intelligent and confident, and would really appreciate not having her parenting abilities questioned.”

None of them are stupid enough to refute her observation.

“Plus, _Under the Sea_ is my absolute favorite.”

Eddie laughs and shrugs his shoulders in defeat.

“She woke up a couple of hours ago and wanted to watch a movie,” Seth explains when Kate stares at him, scrunching her eyebrows together and biting the side of her cheek in either confusion or concern.

Kate shakes her head, stepping into their living room and kneeling down next to them so she can brush away the strands of hair that have fallen over the sleeping girl’s face. “It’s okay; just do me a favor and help me carry her back into the bedroom so she can sleep comfortably, please.”

He nods, carefully cradling Grace in his arms and shushing under his breath when she begins to stir. He rocks her softly until she settles back into her deep sleep, and it’s easy to feel all their stares burning into him as he carries her into his bedroom and places her on the center of the bed.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he apologizes, looking at Kate as she tucks a blanket around Grace and presses a kiss to her cheek. “I know you’re not used to her being alone with us yet.”

“It’s not that,” Kate explains, and Seth feels his heart speed up as he listens to the rest of her words. “I know that none of you would ever hurt her. It’s just that I honestly don’t remember hearing her get up, and it scared me when I woke up and she was missing. I guess I’m just really exhausted.”

“Hey,” he calls her, lifting her chin when it drops in embarrassment at what he doesn’t doubt she sees as failure. “You don’t got to do this on your own anymore, remember? I’m not just here for her; _both_ of you can count on me for anything.”

She smiles at him, soft and honest, and his heart falters.

“I think you’re gonna have to keep reminding me of that for a little while.”

Promises have never come so easy to him.

“Just say the word, Princess.”

She opens her mouth to say something else, but then Santanico’s voice is cutting through the silence as she demands to see the brothers and Seth doesn’t miss the fear and anger that burns in Kate’s eyes when she recognizes the sudden intruder. Honestly, he doesn’t blame her, because the very last memories she had of the other woman consisted of Santanico being a culebra queen that trapped them all in the Twister and got her brother turned into a monster and her father killed.

“What the hell is she doing here?” she demands, staring at him in disbelief as she immediately reaches for the gun he’d given her a week ago and hidden inside a box on the top of his closet. She’s running on pure adrenaline, and Seth has no doubt that if he doesn’t stop her she’ll march back out into the living room and shoot the culebra goddess point-blank in the chest.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he pleads, holding onto her arms despite the very real risk of her shooting him for standing in her way. “Santanico’s not a threat anymore. Just, let me check what she wants and then I’ll make her go away and explain everything, alright?”

“I don’t care if she’s a fucking saint now,” Kate snaps, pulling her hands free from his but refusing to set down the gun. “I don’t want her anywhere near Grace.”

“She won’t be,” he vows. “I promise I won’t let anyone hurt her, but I need to see what she wants so just wait for me in here and I’ll come back in two minutes.”

She looks away, glaring at the floor and gritting her teeth, but he’ll take what he can get.

So much for making progress.

He doesn’t even have time to close the door behind him when Santanico starts demanding answers.

“Is it true?” she questions, and the absolute _fear_ that’s hiding behind her practiced indifference is blatant enough to make him pause, because if whatever’s going is bad enough to have her _quivering_ in fear, he can’t imagine what it’s going to do to them.

“Is what true?” he snaps back, even though his gut is yelling at him that he already knows the answer.

“Do you have a child?” she clarifies, and that same feeling of dread only intensifies because _they don’t get to fucking ruin this for him_. “Did that girl bear you a daughter?”

The clench of his jaw is all the answer she needs.

“ _Motherfucker_ ,” she curses, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “We need to get them out of here immediately. There’s no time to waste.”

“No,” he snaps, stepping closer despite her hiss to back off. “You’re gonna pause whatever fucking plan you’ve got and you’re going to explain to me, right now, what the hell is going on. Either that, or I’m gonna shoot you, and Richie’s going to help me.”

“Do that and your daughter’s as good as dead.”

There’s a soft click as a gun’s safety is taken off, and Seth wants to sigh in relief when he realizes that it’s Richie pointing his glock against the back of his girlfriend’s head at the same time that Eddie moves to cover his bedroom door with a rifle held tightly in his hands.

“Explain,” Seth demands again, and she growls but does as asked.

“Your daughter,” she starts, but pauses, and he feels his frustration and fears bubble over.

“Just fucking say it.”

“Your daughter’s the key to the end of the world.”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STOP.   
> HAMMER TIME.   
> Well, sorta. Daily reminder that I promised a happy ending!   
> Tell me what you think! The next chapter will be in Santanico's POV and I'm tying in everything together and giving up the answers! Did I manage to surprise some of you??  
> Also, if you have a tumblr and your heart so desires, add me on there and fangirl with me about these two assholes. I tend to post little snippets from my stories while I'm writing the chapters, so there's that, too.   
> And, I'm writing a story that's pure fluff and snark called Thin Lines and you can check that out if you're interested.  
> As always, thanks to everyone for your awesome response. It truly does make a world of difference to read your awesome input!


	11. you're the train that crashed my heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .

“And in this old horror show

I’ve got to let you know

Oh, Laura, you’re more than a superstar

You’re more than a superstar.”

-Bats for Lashes

.

…

There is only one truth that she believes in her heart:

_Life is a never-ending struggle for the balance of power._

For every prophecy that favored the Lords of the Underworld, there was another intended to keep them in their place. It had been that way since the beginning of time, and it would stay so until the end. They were meant for the shadows; for darkness and evil and death.

There was a fine line that could not be crossed.

She’d waited centuries for the brothers.

She’s suffered and served and swallowed her pride and pain until all the stars aligned and the visions of freedom that plagued her days became a reality that she could touch with her fingertips. She had danced her nights away and lured all the souls the Lords demanded and she’d paid the debt Malvado assigned to her the day he stole away her soul and turned her into the monster he called his _Diosa_.

She’d _earned_ her freedom.

It’d been time for somebody else to do the same.

And she’d felt _her_ : that little girl with an old soul who prayed to her God and went to church and believed in the sanctity of life, gripping onto her faith with an iron fist when most others would have lost it.

She’d felt the loneliness; the sadness, the _desperation_ that’d radiated from within _la niña_ who was so full of innocence and purity and she’d known that she was _perfect_.

This was a girl who could shoulder the burden of being revered as a goddess.

She was what the people who prayed to _Kisa_ deserved.

She’d possessed the benevolence that _Santanico_ abandoned so long ago.

Malvado would _love_ her.   

She’d tried to lure her in – whispered promises of _home_ and _belonging_ invading her dreams when she was at her lowest and in mourning – if only she would give up her God and allowed herself to be transformed.

But Kate Fuller never did.

Santanico both admired and despised her for it.

Her father, though, _him_ she’d been able to pull closer with a need of searching for _answers_.

She’d made the call: shown them all that it was time to come home to fulfill their destinies and find their purpose in this world. Nothing was left up to chance and both she and Carlos had ensured that the Geckos would cross paths with the Fullers to reach the Twister in time. Everyone was warned that they were not to be touched before it was time: the Gods would not settle for damaged goods and they did not like being tricked.

After the brothers beat the labyrinth and once Richie freed her: that was when Kate would be turned – when Malvado sensed that his hold on her was broken and he came back to reclaim her, the priests would appease him with the girl’s sacrifice and he would have a new distraction to call his own. It would buy her enough time to escape and find a way to kill him and destroy everything that he stood for: his entire empire turned to dust under her fists if only she was willing to pay the price of purity. It was a cruel thing to do to an innocent girl, but Santanico was living proof that it could be _endured_.  

She was trading _one_ soul for the freedom owed to _thousands_ more.

There would be no more slavery.

The balance would lie in her favor.

Except, she hadn’t planned for a _Rinche_ with sacred blood who refused to die. She hadn’t planned for Richard to see her in her true guise or for Kate to understand the consequences of being _chosen_ in the midst of a bloodbath. She hadn’t planned for Carlos to betray her out of jealousy and she hadn’t planned for the fucking pervert that tried to sacrifice her for his own gain. She hadn’t planned for Kate’s soul to be marked at the altar or for the other brother to take her away while she was distracted.

In the end, all she’d gotten was her own freedom.

That, and _los Hermanos Gecko_ sitting in a Lord’s throne.

And she, _La Diosa_ , had prayed to the same Gods that would trade their immortality for her death, for the brothers to never learn or understand the consequences that were implied and that they opened themselves up to the moment they took hold of a world that didn’t belong to them; no, a world that didn’t belong to a _mortal_. They each had a role and a side to fill and nobody was happy when they stepped on each other’s toes.

The balance was lost, and now they were here.

“You corrupted the Light.”

Obviously, it goes beyond Seth’s scope of insight, because he shoots back an immediate “what the fuck are you talking about?” while aiming his gun back at her face and she promises herself that if he doesn’t put it away in the next five seconds she’s going to rip off his head.

“When we killed Malvado, you and Richard took over his throne: that doesn’t come without any strings attached,” she begins to explain, looking over her shoulder to spot Richard with his aim lowered, but his finger still on the trigger. “You took his place here, and in the Underworld hierarchy, too. The same rules that applied to him apply to the both of you.”

“What rules? We didn’t exactly get a dollar-store handbook on how not to bring on the end of the world when that shit went down. In fact, you ditched us and went on some fucking sabbatical while we dealt with all this bullshit.”

“I wanted to destroy everything,” she hisses, doing her best to keep her face from shifting and reminding them of the facts both brothers so dearly loved forgetting. “Richard was the one who couldn’t shut his _brilliant_ mind off and got greedy, and you were the one who _couldn’t_ help himself around her.”

Seth grits his teeth and she doesn’t have to turn around to know that Richard is biting his cheek and rolling his eyes.

“What do the girls have to do with any of this?”

It’s Eddie who speaks up, asking the questions that deserved answers before his nephews got any more riled up and started shooting at an impossible target. Santanico knows that there’s a reason why she has always respected the man. He kept a cool head when it mattered.

“Kate was meant to take my place in the Twister, after I was freed; she was going to be an offering to the Gods to appease them for me leaving.”

“Now, let’s not be bashful here,” Seth cuts her off, pointing an accusatory finger at her with all the dignity he doesn’t deserve. “You meant to say you were gonna serve her up on a fucking platter for Malvado, don’t you? You were going to let him turn her into some twisted version of your Dancing Queen routine while you ran off to plan your little Psycho rendition.”

Santanico scoffs.

Yes, because she’s the only one with a long list of sins to trail after her.

“I wasn’t the one who abandoned her on the side of the road.”

She can see Eddie tensing out of the corner of her eye, obviously unaware of all the details that occurred between his nephew and the girl he was guarding, and she doesn’t miss the way his aim shifts just an inch so that it’s subconsciously pointing at the gap between her and the eldest brother – still undecided which one was less deserving of their life.

“How the fuck do you even know that?”

“I know so much more than you can imagine.”

“You don’t know shit about us,” Seth snaps, basically snarling at her as he dares to step closer. “And you sure as Hell aren’t going to bring your little sideshow act around my daughter.”

Regardless of how much they all hate it, that’s where he’s wrong.

“Trust me, it wasn’t her God who put her in your path to save your sorry excuse of a soul from damnation. She was there to set me free; you _all_ were. Nobody can outrun their destiny.”

The door in front of her opens and out steps Kate, staring at her in disbelief and anger that can only be overshadowed by the _hurt_ in her eyes. Santanico might not have a heart, but that doesn’t mean she’s incapable of feeling regret or sorrow for the damage she has caused; she learned long ago to distance herself from everything and focus on the main goal.

That’s much easier to do when it’s not staring you in the face and demanding redemption.

“It was you, wasn’t it? The voice inside my head, after my momma passed away?” Kate questions, eyes wide and lips softly quivering. She moves closer to her, brushing past Seth’s grip when he tries to stop her. “I knew there was something familiar about you when I saw you at the Twister. I spent all that time trying to convince myself I wasn’t crazy when I should have been allowed to mourn. You tried to make me forget who I was and you stole my family from me.”

Apologies have never come easy to her, and there’s no amount of excuses that will earn her forgiveness, so she tries for truth.

She learned her lesson with Paloma.

“Sacrifices had to be made.”

“You used to be like me,” Kate reminds her, speaking of the stories she’d learned while searching for her own brother. “How could you let anyone turn you into such a _monster_? How could you become so _cruel_ to set someone up for the same fate?”

“I wasn’t going to leave you there forever,” she vows, defending herself and inserting as much sincerity into her voice as she could muster. She’s never been one for letting her emotions guide her, but she won’t shy away from her responsibility is this girl’s tragedy. “I would have protected you.”

“I’ve heard that one before,” Kate mocks, loud and clear and both brothers wince at their own share of the blame and at their own personal failures. For someone who’d meant so much to them all, they’d done a pretty ridiculous job of keeping her safe. “And the only thing I know for sure is that I can take care of myself and my daughter. Now tell me what they want from her.”

She pauses, thinking of the best way to make sense and explain something she could barely understand herself.

“My people considered children to be gifts from the Gods of the sky, and sacrificing one was meant to be seen as an honor; a way of them being worthy of returning home. They were seen as honor and destiny and the Gods only allowed themselves and mortals to carry on their bloodlines. Sacrifices were demanded to remind everyone of their position in the hierarchy. The Lords of the Underworld were never meant to bear children; they’re not allowed to and their bodies ensure no offspring is ever born. It would be an affront to the Gods if one stole that gift from them.”

Kate frowns, scrunching her brows together in confusion. “I still don’t understand what that has to do with my daughter.”

So she doesn’t know yet.

“ _Shit_ ,” Richie curses under his breath, and Santanico has no doubt that he’d connected the dots. “You should’ve told us.”

“Told you what?” Kate demands, shifting her stare between both brothers and the goddess can see the exact moment in which realization hits Seth because his shoulders stiffen and he snaps his eyes shut as his head drops in anguish. “What the hell is going on?”

“They’re both Lords, but _Seth_ is a _human_ ,” Santanico answers. “They would have never allowed for him to have a child. And not only that, but _you_ and your light were meant to be _stolen_ from them and sacrificed to the Underworld as an offering. She was born out of your seduction into the darkness. Your daughter is a _mockery_ to their power.”

“She’s the only being in the world who is connected to all the realms; she can make it so that the sun will never shine on this land again or so that no culebra or God remains standing. Whoever controls her will win the war.”

“So, what? Carlitos trades her to them in exchange for free reign on Earth?” Richie interrupts, lifting his hands in surrender when Kate and Seth glare at him. “How does she factor into the end of the world? Should we expect her to go all Linda Blair on us?”

“I swear to God, Richard, I will stab you,” Seth promises at the same time that Kate questions “How do we stop them?”

Now this she can smile about.

There was something deliciously rewarding about hitting back the same beings that failed you.

“Just because the Lords don’t like cheaters it doesn’t mean that they play fair; we don’t have to anymore, either.”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse the super long delay, everyone. I've spent the past month moving and packing and unpacking between houses and please be kind if I'm a little rusty.   
> Santanico's perspective, as promised. Next up we switch back to Kate.   
> Some things were left purposely unanswered because they form part of the upcoming plot, but let me know if you're confused about anything and I'll do my best to explain.   
> Thank you for taking the time to comment and for all the lovely messages you sent me on tumblr! They really do motivate me to squeeze in time for writing and to do the best I can for these stories.  
> Now, back to napping.


	12. even as the world spins itself apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rise and Fall of one Seth Gecko's heavy conscious.   
> Or, Seth's finally getting his shit in order so he can have a shot at Katie-Cakes and his family.

_“Well, I traveled a long way_

_And it took me a long time to find you_

_But I finally found you.”_

- **Alabama Shakes**

**…**

He doesn’t have a plan.

He doesn’t know which way to turn.

There’s a fucking bonafied Snake Queen standing in front of him, telling him how it’s his own damn fault that the kid he just found out he has is a walking target for the same monsters he spends his days killing or guiding.

He’s Seth _fucking_ Gecko; the cocky motherfucker than can always figure out a way to work a job and now that he needs to – now that it his family on the line – he can’t get the noise that’s ringing in his ear like a hornet to stop.

He’s a fucking disgrace. 

“Grab your keys.”

It’s Kate’s voice calling to him, but he can barely hear her over his own thoughts.

Seth blinks. “What?”

“Grab your keys,” she repeats, slowly; _patiently_ , giving him the time he needs to work out the meaning behind her words. “We’re leaving.”

“We can’t,” he stutters, and her eyes harden. “It’s not safe.”

Kate closes her eyes and clenches her fists, taking a deep breath before lifting her chin and staring straight at him.

“I’m going to grab my daughter and we’re going to walk out that door and none of you are going to stop me,” she informs him, loud enough for his family and Santanico to hear, and the determination on her face leaves no doubt in his mind that she means every word. “Your only choice is to decide whether you’re coming with us.”

He stares between her and the rest of his family, desperately trying to decide whether her safety should outweigh her anger, but Kate still has one card left to play.

“You promised me the sun.”

Just like that, the noise stops.

There’s no choice to make.

“Let’s go.”

Kate sighs in relief and she’s gone in an instant, heading straight back into his bedroom and he can hear her softly waking up Grace and asking her to get dressed. Seth reaches for the gun he’d tucked in between the couch cushions and on his way to grab a suit, deftly ignoring Santanico’s ‘ _we don’t have time for you to go on a play date_ ’ and Richie’s ‘ _think this through, Brother, it’s better to have her pissed off than dead in a ditch_ ’ and instead focusing on his uncle’s ‘ _take care of your family, son._ ’

They’re out of the shop in five minutes flat, and he doesn’t stop driving for an hour.

It’s the closest thing he’s ever felt to freedom.

And now they’re here.

“Don’t do that to yourself.”

Seth tears his gaze away from his daughter, looking up to find an identical pair of worried green eyes locked on him.

They’re sitting on a dusty bench in the middle of a park on the outskirts of Houston. The sun is out and bright and he can feel it’s warmth penetrating through his clothes and soaking deep down into his bones. The humid heat that Texas is so infamous for seems to have decided to cut them a break, and there’s a light breeze that sifts through Kate’s hair and keeps them tolerably cool.

His daughter is lying down on top of a blanket he’d pulled out of one of Eddie’s stored boxes, staring at the sky with her thin little arms pointing at the clouds as she calls out the different shapes she can make out. Her mother is sitting close enough for him to hear every breath she takes and to catch the soft floral scent of her conditioner.

It’s surreal, truly, to be sitting here, pretending or playing or whatever the fuck you want to call it, at being normal.

It even more bizarre that it feels _real_.

It’s real, and there’ll be no one to blame but himself when he loses it all.

“Do what?”

Kate arches an eyebrow, pursing her lips into a thin line before her whole expression softens and he can read the sympathy brewing on her face.

“You know, for someone who prides himself so much on his legendary conman status, you’re a really bad liar sometimes.”

Seth scoffs, turning away from her and staring at the spots of mud that are splattered on his shoes.

“So says the girl who couldn’t be trusted to drive us across the border.”

“Lying’s never really been my thing,” she admits, shrugging her shoulders and indulging in a soft laugh. “Grace got everything from you in that department. I don’t know how many of our neighbor’s she’s hustled and has wrapped around her fingers.”

He scoffs.

“I guess if I was ever gonna have a kid it had to be with you,” Seth murmurs. “It took all those Fuller genes to shave off the shitstorm that being a Gecko dropped on the poor kid.”

Kate stares at him and he knows what she sees; hunched over with a three-day beard and as many answers now as he did five years ago and God, he must still be such a pathetic excuse of a man to her – as useful sober as he was doped out of his mind and hating everything around him.  

Santanico’s words won’t stop ringing in his ears.

“Kids have a way of getting the best parts of us,” she replies, and when she places her hand on top of his and squeezes it in reassurance. “Every time I see Grace it’s like watching all the things you did that drove me crazy and all the things that made it worth sticking around at the same time.”

And, fucking Hell, she really does mean it.

She can still sit in front of him and tell him with complete honesty that she could see the good in him, like he hadn’t fucked her over in every sense of the word and in every way possible. Like he wasn’t the direct source of her every downfall. Like she isn’t aware that she deserved a real family and a white-picket fence and a man she could be proud of and Sunday-night dinners and soft kisses with even gentler promises that would always stay true.

Like he didn’t rob her of all that; like he didn’t give her shitty motel rooms and police siren lullabies and a rushed-through first time after she’d yelled and pleaded with him to get his shit together the day she’d found the sealed drugs in his suit. Like he hadn’t conned her out of every single thing she had to give and then ditched her on the side of the road.

Like he wasn’t just like the monsters who were chasing after her.   

He can’t stop the words from pouring out of his throat.

“I should have sent you home, after the Twister,” he starts, and it doesn’t take a genius to notice the way she tenses up. “I should’ve stuck you into that monster RV and made sure you drove straight home and into the arms of all your Bible-loving friends and family and then I should have made damn sure you never got mixed up in this shit again.”

“Seth,” she tries to stop him, but he cuts her off.

“But instead I was a fucking bastard who was too afraid of being on his own and I thought we’d be okay, you know? I thought that maybe if we stuck together we could watch out for each other and make it work and I could keep you safe. I thought that we’d both lost our families, and we could have something like that together.”

“We did have that, for a little bit,” she reminds him, and he can hear the tears clogging up her voice. “And then we both did a lot of things we shouldn’t have.”

Seth scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’re still finding excuses for me,” he sighs. “I latched onto you like a fucking leech and all you did was take my bullshit and I haven’t even had the balls to tell you how sorry I am for everything. And I am, Princess, I’m really fucking sorry for everything that I put you through and all the shit we’re still mixed up in.”

“I know,” she whispers, holding onto his hands and glancing at Grace out of the corner of her eye. “And so does she.”

“I don’t know what to do,” he confesses, dropping his head. “But you’ve always know, haven’t you? You’ve always been able to figure out what the right thing to do is; you’ve always taken the best choice and that’s why you hid Grace from me when you found out about her. You always knew that being near me was a shit-storm waiting to happen.”

Kate shakes her head, and the tears that start streaming down her face break his heart.

“I just wanted her to have her best shot.”

“Tell me what to do,” he pleads. “Do you want us to run? Do you want us to take these sons of bitches head on? Do you want me to walk out of your lives again? Just, help me out here.”

“We’re going to follow the plan you and Richie put in motion a week ago,” she tells him, and relief burns bright in his lungs at hearing himself still being included. “Except, we’re not going to that Jed’s place you’ve been talking about. It doesn’t make sense to take her into a place that used to belong to them; they probably know a dozen different ways in and out of there that you and Richard can’t even imagine, and I won’t put Grace through a temple.”

“You’re going to call your brother and you’re going to tell him to meet us somewhere else, and to bring Eddie and Santanico, too, if you really trust her, and when we’re all together we’re going to sit down and figure out what the best way to solve this is.”

“Okay,” he agrees, finally feeling like he can catch his breath again.

However, she’s not finished yet.

“But before we do any of that, we’re going to tell Grace who you really are.”

And there goes his breath again.

His heart pounds inside his chest and he can barely manage the words to ask, “are you sure?”

“We don’t know what’s going to happen,” she explains, a soft tremble to her barely audible tone. “And now that it’s possible, I want her to have that. I want her to know that she has a dad that loves her and an uncle that will spoil her and an almost grandpa who can tell her stories and that she has more than just her momma. I want her to know that she has this whole family that would do anything to keep her happy and safe.”

“I swear to you that we’d all die for you both, Kate.”

“If something were to happen to me…,” she trails off, and Seth wants to yell at her a thousand promises that she’s going to be okay, but he has no words of security to offer. “I want her to know that she’s not alone. I don’t ever want her to feel the way I did when I was pregnant and all on my own. I need you to promise me that she will always come first.”

“She already does,” he vows. “She always will, Princess.”

Kate smiles.

“Then, Mr. Gecko, get ready to meet your daughter.”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of short. Kind of odd at places.   
> It's been a while since I've really had time to work on something and I'm really off my game.   
> Please bear with me while I get back in my writing groove.   
> Two jobs working from seven to seven is absolutely no joke. 
> 
> All that aside, I really do hope you liked the update!   
> I know that it might feel a bit OOC in places where Seth is concerned, but I wanted him to reach this point so he could rebuild himself up (and also because I live for his facial and body expressions and the absolute devastation when Richie tells him Kate died like DJ, bro, you nailed that).   
> Tell me what you worked or what didn't! And expect updates to my other stories throughout the week!   
> Thank to everyone who's stuck with this story for so long!


	13. and the green grass grows all around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS SUPER LATE SO I MAY HAVE OVERCOMPENSATED.  
> PLEASE ENJOY THE FLUFF AS MY FORMAL APOLOGY.

_“Or if I was a sailor_

_And I sailed the seven seas_

_I’d row across the ocean_

_Just to bring you home with me.”_

  * **Noah Gundersen**



…

She doesn’t have a clue where to begin.

She’s terrified.

Kate knows, rationally, that this is the best course of action.

It’s been too long – so damn long – and she’s tired of fighting the world on her own. She’d done everything in her power to be strong and tough and brave even when she was scared and alone and lost and she did it all for her daughter; for the little girl who only had her in the world and who she loved with everything she had. Kate would do it for the rest of her life without a single regret if it meant she got to see a smile on her pretty face. She’d made her choices and she’d dealt with the consequences. She’d picked a life of relative solitude, away from everything and everyone she’d ever known, and she’d rebuilt in the aftermath.

But Grace’s life didn’t have to be that way.

Not when she had a father who loved and worshipped her and an uncle who would undoubtedly spoil her rotten and a grandfather who tripped over himself to keep her happy. Not when they were all running themselves ragged to prove to her that they would do anything for her daughter; for their family.   

Not when she never had to feel alone.

It still doesn’t make the words come any easier.

Because this is the point of No Return: once she opens her mouth and explains to her daughter that a man she’s only known for a week is her father, things will never be the same as they used to be. It won’t be just them anymore, and when this whole mess is over she won’t be able to pack her into a car and take her back home and pretend like it was all a dream. She’ll have an entire new family who will never let them go.

And Grace won’t want them to.

Grace, who is sitting beside her on a park bench while her legs swing freely underneath the cement table and her wide green eyes wait patiently for her mother to explain herself. Seth is sitting across from them, solemn and quiet and hanging onto her every word as he keeps an eye out for any possible threats.

He won’t let anyone take this from him.

“Baby,” Kate starts, shoving the words out of her lungs and taking a deep breath to compose herself and swallow her nerves. “You know mommy loves you more than anything in the world, right?”

“I know,” she answers, flashing her the widest smile Kate’s ever seen and forcing her heart to skip a beat before smiling in return. “I love you, too.”

“And you know that everything I do, I do it for you, right?”

She scrunches up her eyebrows, angling her head in confusion at the sudden array of question that probably felt much too serious coming from the person who’d shielded her from everything her entire young life. Still, she nods, and Kate releases a grateful sigh when she feels Grace’s fingers curling around her own and squeezing in reassurance – the very same way Kate had done for her whenever she was scared or nervous about anything.

She’s so young – yet so perceptive – just like both her parents.

“Do you know why I do that? Why I will always do that?”

 “Because you’re my Mommy,” she answers immediately, point-blank and matter-of-fact, confident in the only truth she’s ever known. “And we are a family.”

Kate nods, lifting a hand to brush away a stray lock of hair from her forehead and cupping her cheek in a gentle encouragement. “And what do families do?”

“They take care of each other, and they love you no matter what.”

She’s never been prouder of her little girl in her entire life.

“That’s right,” she approves, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple before straightening back up and forcing herself to regain her composure. “Family is the most important thing in the world, baby, which is why Mommy is so happy to give you a surprise.”

Her eyes light up in excitement, giggling as she shifts in her seat and bounces on her legs. “Really? Tell me!”

“Our family got bigger, sweetie,” she admits, a shaky laugh that’s all nerves and no humor bursting out of her. “Seth and Richie and Uncle Eddie – they’re all part of our family, too.”

Grace blinks, looking between both adults and scrunching her eyebrows while her lips purse.

“So, they’re like, my uncles?” she asks, confused.

“Eddie and Richie are, but Seth’s a little bit more special than that.”

And, as bright and bold as her daughter is, she still doesn’t understand, which Kate doesn’t blame her for. It’d hard enough to accept that your family has grown in triple its size overnight – she knows all about that from the talks she had with her own parents before they brought Scott home – and she can’t even begin to guess how Grace will react when she knows the whole truth about Seth.

“Do you remember what I told you, when you asked me about your daddy?”

She doesn’t need to look his way to know Seth’s whole self is tense and rigid. She can feel his stare burning into her, moving away only enough to focus on his daughter before it returns to her. Out of the corner of her eye she catches his fingers tapping against the tabletop before he starts to reach for her own, but he stops, reconsiders, and drops both hands to his lap.

“You said that he couldn’t be with us right now,” she recites, growing silent for a moment at their reality, but then she smiles at Kate and the passive disappointment is quickly forgotten. “But that it didn’t mean he didn’t love me.”

“Your daddy’s here now, Gracie,” she confesses, and it feels like the weight of the world has been lifted form her shoulders and she can breathe again for the first time in five years. “Seth’s with us right now, and he loves you just as much as I told you he would.”  

Grace pauses, stares at her for a minute before turning to study Seth, who is frozen in place and doing his best to stay perfectly still as they both wait for her reaction to manifest itself. He doesn’t want to scare her; doesn’t want to push his daughter into something she doesn’t want and he’s giving her the time and space she needs to reach her own conclusions without making excuses for himself and Kate, well, Kate is exquisitely reminded of the man she fell in love with.

And then, with all the gravity and innocence that a child her age could muster, she asks him, “You’re not lost anymore?”

“What?” he breaks, and stutters out a confused, “What was that, sweetheart?”

“Mommy said that sometimes the people that love us get lost,” she explains, and Kate can feel her breath getting clogged in her throat as she listens to her tiny daughter speak with a maturity she wasn’t even aware she possessed. “But that maybe they would find us again when they were ready. You’re not lost anymore, right?”

“No, baby girl,” he answers, reaching across the table to offer up his hand in what might look like reassurance for his daughter, but Kate knows is just as much for himself. He’s always been a tactile person, depending on his senses and his gut more than anything else – believing only what he can see and touch – and this situation is no different. He needs to convince himself that this is real, that they’re all really there for and with him, and that they’re not going anywhere. “I’m not lost anymore.”

And Kate can breathe again.

“Mommy and I can hold your hand if you want us to,” Grace offers, curling her small and thin fingers around his. “So you don’t get lost again.”

Seth laughs, lifting his free hand to stroke his fingertips against her cheek and tuck away a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’d like that.”

Their daughter only grins.

…

The ride over to the next town is quiet.

Seth takes them to breakfast at another run-of-the-mill diner when Grace breaks up their first official reunion to inform them both that she’s hungry and they realize most of the morning has gone by while they were busy breaking and rebuilding the familial bonds that had always joined them. They order scrambled eggs with pancakes and orange juice after they pick a round booth so Grace can sit between them and once they’re done, he slips out of his seat and back into the car so he can call Ranger Gonzalez without his daughter’s prying ears catching hold of their discussion. She stays inside, helping her wash up in the restroom and buying a couple of drinks and snacks for the road.

Kate’s pretty sure Seth just doesn’t want Grace to hear how much Freddie is going to yell at him when he finds out he got her pregnant all those years ago.

She knows she sure as hell doesn’t want to hear what he’s going to say to _her_ when he figures out she didn’t tell him before she left, either.

Grace falls asleep in the backseat almost immediately after they all get back in the car, heading towards the motel Ranger Gonzalez, who Seth tells her is actually something called a _Peacekeeper_ now, has been working out of. It’s a three-hour drive – if they’re lucky – but she doesn’t doubt Seth will have them there with plenty of time before sunset. He also calls someone named Mickey, giving him the address for the new meeting point and instructions to get in contact with the rest of his family, pack all of their things, and bring their kitten along, too.  

“Who’s Mickey?” she asks once he hangs up.

“He works for us,” he answers, switching lanes and double checking his mirrors to ensure no vehicles are following them. She can see how his body shifts and his hold on the steering wheel relaxes once he’s sure they’re safe. “He’s solid. You can trust him with anything you need.”

“He’s your friend.”

“Yeah, the old man’s alright,” he nods, grinning at a memory. “I mean, even asshole’s gotta have friends, right?”

“I thought they just needed a partner.”

Seth tenses, all traces of humor fading away.

She hadn’t mean to hurt him with her words, and Kate can’t figure out just why they’d affected him so much, but this look she can’t quite decipher washes across his face and the next thing she knows he’s stopping the car on the first available rest zone and unbuckling his seatbelt and his fingers are tapping nervously on his lap while he stares out the window and he looks so trapped that it reminds Kate of a caged animal looking for a way out.

But – as quickly as it started – it stops.     

He takes a deep breath, turning to her, and then, “Thank you.”

“What for?” she stutters out, searching his pretty brown eyes for clues to whatever is going on in his head. She thinks he might be referring to their daughter, but it doesn’t feel like the whole truth and she doesn’t know what else he could be thanking her for. Just two seconds ago she could have sworn he’d resented her.

Seth scoffs in disbelief, but none of it is directed at her.

“For fucking everything, Princess.”

Kate frowns, unbuckling her own seatbelt so she can comfortably shift her body towards his. “I don’t understand.”

“You’re the only real partner I’ve ever had,” he admits. “And even after all the shit I put you through and all my bullshit, you never stopped having my back.”

“Of course not,” Kate agrees, reaching for his hand. “You were my family.”

“So fucking pure,” he mutters underneath his breath.

Kate is about to remind him that she hasn’t been pure in a very long time – that it’s not a title she deserves or has ever wanted to carry – but then his whole frame is leaning forward and his head is right in front of hers and he’s angling himself so he can kiss her and Kate’s first instinct is to immediately pull back before his lips can reach hers the second her brain catches up to what’s going on.

Because this is dangerous territory, and she’s never been more afraid.

“We can’t do this again,” she murmurs, staring at his eyes in a silent request that she’s not sure what it’s asking for, so she turns away. “We can’t just walk away anymore.”

He doesn’t back off.

Instead, he uses both of his hands to cup her face, gently guiding her head back towards his. “Trust me,” he pleads – honest and quiet and _real_ – but still allowing the choice to be _hers_ , and in that moment she can’t do anything besides close her eyes and the gap between them, pressing her mouth to his in the softest kiss she’s ever been given.

He’d kissed her before, during the night they’d spent together, but they’d both been so hurt and angry and _desperate_ for _something_ that it’d translated over to his kisses – sharp and rough and much too demanding for someone who’d been treated with silk gloves her entire life – and while they hadn’t scared her and she’d consented to everything that happened between them, she’d known immediately that there’d be no Happy Ending for them if they followed that destructive path. It hadn’t matter to her back then. She’d wanted anything he could give her and he’d taken everything she offered.

He hadn’t offered her any more promises while they were together – not since he’d broken the one he’d made to her in the Dew Drop Inn so terribly.

She might have loved him, but even at seventeen she’d never been blind to his flaws.

She’d never really believed him before; she’d only wanted to.

But this is different.

This kiss – which is barely more than a peck on the lips – is full of promises, and they all taste like new beginnings.  

He breaks contact, resting his forehead against hers while his fingers trace the outline of her cheekbones and down towards her jaw, the bridge of his nose bumping against her own. “You’ve always been so much more than I deserve, Kid.”

“I never wanted to leave you,” she whispers right back, bringing her own hands up to rest on his shoulders while her fingers play with the short hair at the nape of his neck. “I missed you so much.”

“You had to,” he reminds her, and for the first time there’s no hint of bitterness in his voice, just an acceptance and forgiveness for the both of them that starts to wipe away the guilt and sadness that plagued them for so long. “But never again, sweetheart. We’re all out after this.”

She shakes her head, closing her eyes in a vain effort to stop her heart from latching onto his words like a lifeline, eyes filling with all the tears she hadn’t allowed herself to cry before. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I swear it, Kate,” he vows, wiping away a stray tear and God, it’s too much and not enough but it feels so right and it hurts in every way she knew it would but more than anything it burns in her lungs like Hope. “It’s going to be you and me and Gigi on a beach somewhere, and we’re going to be so goddamned happy you won’t believe it.”

She laughs quietly, mindful of their sleeping daughter while her arms wrap around him to pull him into an embrace. “It sounds like paradise.”

“It’s going to be, sweetheart,” he answers, burying his nose into her hair before he presses a kiss to the top of her shoulder. “I know it is.”

And he might be a liar and a thief and a conman and every other bad thing in the world, but – in this moment – none of it matters anymore.

Because he’s that, and he’s more. He’s so much more.

And Kate is never more grateful for it than she is when he understands that she needs space to work through everything that’s happened to them in the past couple of hours and doesn’t press for another kiss or for any other sort of declaration from her. It’s been a week and he’s back to reading her like the opened book she’s always been to him, but this time it doesn’t upset her like it used to. This time, she doesn’t have to be afraid he’ll use anything he finds against her.

They’re done hurting each other.

He pulls back into the road and neither can find the words to break their silence again, but it doesn’t really matter.

Because for once it’s not uncomfortable – they’ve stopped walking on eggshells around each other and what’s left – what _this_ is, is the sort of comfort and reassurance that only the truth can hand you. There’s nothing left to hide – all the secrets that’d terrified them both and could have broken them have been exposed – yet they are still standing. They’re still together – for however long that might last – and they are still a family. They still have a shot.

They are in so much danger, but she knows that neither of them had ever felt so liberated.

Seth grabs for her hand and she lets him, fingers slipping between his and smiling when his thumb rubs against her knuckles before resting their joined digits on her lap as he drives.

And Kate knows, just like she always has, that there was never a moment when she truly stopped loving him.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked it! I'm actually pretty happy with how the chapter turned out!  
> Let me know what you think!  
> I felt the need to update this tonight in case we all die from the new episode on Tuesday, cause better safe than sorry, bro.  
> And also, I'm sort-of, part-time, on twitter now, and you can find me at this same username!  
> Thanks for reading!


	14. little darling, i feel that ice is slowly melting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (if you celebrate it) Merry Late-Christmas, and Happy Holidays!  
> Have all the family feels as my gift to y'all!

...

They’re less than twenty minutes from reaching the motel they’d agreed to meet up in when Freddie calls to give them a new address, over two hours away in the opposite direction. 

Seth isn’t impressed.

He curses under his breath and slams his palm against the steering wheel, jaw clenched and eyes slanted and she knows that if Grace wasn’t asleep in the backseat he would have gotten into a yelling match with the ranger just as much as she knows that if it’d been five years ago, she would have been caught in the crossfire.

And it’d be easy for her to cringe and blame his brash temper for the anger that she can feel thrumming through him – easy to fall back on herself and believe that he hasn’t changed as much as he swears he has and as much as she’s verified with her own eyes – easy to see his flaws as nothing but the warning signs they were back when they were both younger.

Except, they’re not those same lost and desperate and desolated souls.

They’re not alone anymore.

And they’re both done running.

They’re here, and they’re fighting for a chance to be together – _Seth’s_ fighting – day in and out and she would have to be both blind and oblivious to not realize that he’s completely _exhausted_ after spending his every waking moment trying to keep them safe and trying to _earn_ his shot at having and deserving a family and having to deal with the fact that they’re stuck in this goddamned situation where things are out of his control.

There’s nothing he hates more than not being in control, and now – when it matters most – she knows in her heart that his lack of it has every doubt and ounce of guilt that crawl around in his mind and keeps him up at night calling him a _failure_. He’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders and he doesn’t know which way to turn.

Kate will be damned if she lets him go down that road alone.

He’s giving them his _all_ , and it’s about time she returns the favor.  

…

They arrive at Freddie’s safe house a couple of hours before sunset.

It’s tiny and isolated and it looks so morbid that she immediately hates it, and for the first time in a very long time, she wonders how life turned out for her once-mentor. She’ll find out soon enough.

So, she gently lifts a sleeping Grace into her arms, who grumbles at the disruption but tucks her nose under Kate’s chin and quickly dozes back off. Seth walks in front of them, one hand tucked inside his coat and she doesn’t have to see it to know he’s got his gun ready in case that any threat decides to pop out of the woodworks.

It doesn’t.

Ranger Gonzalez opens the door before they can even knock and Kate wants to sigh in gratitude at the momentary relief that shines in his eyes at the sight of them standing on his front step. His stare shifts back and forth between her and Seth until it lands on their daughter and she doesn’t have to be a mother to pick up on the longing that radiates off him – the kind that only a parent can feel.

Life has not been kind to him.  

“I don’t know which one of you to yell at first,” he finally speaks up, shaking himself out of the daze he’d fallen into and scowling at Seth. “Really, Gecko? You couldn’t keep your hands off the teen?”

Seth clenches his fists and Kate opens her mouth to speak but Freddie cuts her off before she can even begin.

“And you,” he snaps, pointing a finger at her. “You don’t think maybe you should have told me about this before you took off on your own? Do you have any idea how many things could have gone wrong? How many risks you took?”

Her mouth falls shut and it’s almost involuntary when she looks away from him.

The luck she’d had after she left had been nothing short of a blessing, and Kate is more than aware of it.

“Look, asshole, we don’t need any more fucking lectures right now, alright?” Seth sneers, taking a step forward and she doesn’t miss a beat.

“Freddie, I know that you’re upset and you’ve got every right to be so,” Kate intervenes, softly rocking Grace back and forth when she starts to whimper at the noise. Seth is quick to pick up on it, reaching up to run a soothing palm along her shoulders until she settles back down. “We have a lot of things to talk about but right now I’m very tired, and so is our little girl, and we just really need rest for a bit.”

He scowls – obviously more than ready to keep arguing and scold them both for the mess that they’re all in – but relents after a couple of seconds of her silent imploring, choosing instead to lead them to an empty room at the end of the hallway. He leaves them alone and they’ve just settled Grace down in the middle of the bed when Freddie comes back with an extra pillow and a thick blanket, warning them that once everyone arrives they’ll all have to face reality and figure out a plan.

Kate thanks him and locks the door the second he steps outside.

“You need to rest,” she says before she’s even done turning around, watching as Seth quietly stalks around the tiny room peering out the windows for any threats and double checking that the panels are all locked. He’s still as agitated as she’s ever seen him, and the grimace on his face does nothing to alleviate the starkness of his sunken eyes or the heaviness in his step.

“I’m fine,” he dismisses immediately. “You should get some sleep, though. I’ll keep watch.”

“Seth, you’re exhausted.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“And I say you’re not.”

Her voice is harsher than she’d expected it to be and he takes note of it, lifting his tired eyes to meet her own. She takes a deep breath, slowing exhaling to release the pent-up anxiety building up inside of her and then she’s walking towards him while doing her best not to falter under his stare. He’s looking at her the same way he had in the car – right before he’d kissed her – but they both know that he won’t do it again until it’s clear that it’s _her_ choice.

As his partner, he owes her that much.

Kate tries to ignore how fast her heart is beating when her hands finally reach his, smiling softly in reassurance when he stops fighting her and follows her lead until they’re standing beside the bed and she’s helping him shrug out of his jacket and tie while he kicks off his shoes. She takes a seat on the edge of the bed, and he sighs in defeat before taking up the space right beside her.

“You don’t have to do everything on your own anymore,” she reminds him, placing a hand on top of his own and lightly tapping her fingertips against his knuckles. “I know that you’re doing everything you can – and more – to keep us safe. It’s okay for you to stop and catch your breath.”

She half-expects him to keep on denying it, but he chooses to be honest instead.

She loves him just a little bit more for it.

“It’s not that easy – shutting it all off.”

“I know it isn’t,” she agrees, understanding exactly what he means without him having to give a single more explanation. “But you have to learn how to take care of yourself, too. You can’t wear yourself down to the point where you don’t have the strength to make it home.”

He pauses, looks away for a heartbeat, and then, “I can’t lose you again.”

Kate doesn’t know how to answer – not really, not when he says things like _that_ , things that sound a lot closer to _I love you_ than they do to _you matter to me_ – not when he’s never actually _told_ her how he feels about her regardless of how she’d worn her heart on her sleeve for him; not when he’s treating her with silk gloves and kissing her so tenderly she wants to forget every doubt she’s ever had and _definitely_ not when he’s gently pulling on her arm and lifting her onto his lap.

His touch – though moderate and nowhere near inappropriate – feels much too _intimate_ , and it leaves her frozen. Her spine stiffens and her muscles tense and she has to place both hands on his shoulders to physically establish some distance between them in order to catch her breath and she can see the worry clear as day on his face when her own eyes widen in something that _isn’t_ fear but feels a whole lot _like_ it.

“Kate,” he whispers, confused and panicked as he tries and fails to understand what’s happening or what he’s done wrong. His hands are brushing back her hair and holding up her chin and he’s pleading with her to just _talk to me, sweetheart_ but she’s too busy trying to fight off the urge to bolt away from him and shrink back into herself.

“I just need a minute,” she breathes out, feeling the tension slowly start to dissolve and the burning in her lungs settle. She’s not exactly conscious of her head leaning down to rest against his chest, but she’ll sum it up to a small blessing because her arms are wrapped around his neck and he’s got one hand on her waist to keep her steady and the other tentatively tracing around the ridges of her spine in soothing strokes that give her something new to focus on and it’s not long until she feels in control of herself again. “I’m okay now.”

He’s not buying it. “I thought we were done with all the lying.”

Kate flinches at the accusation but doesn’t argue with him. Instead, she presses herself closer to Seth and closes her eyes until all she can feel is his strong heartbeat thrumming against her cheek and the comforting warmth that she’d always associated with him and grown accustomed to during their time together – the same warmth she’d craved almost desperately when he was away and she had no one to rely or depend on.

No one to remind her how _touch_ could be intoxicating.

And she wants to explain that to him. Wants to explain how it’d been five years since anyone had touched her in a way that was anything more than familial and platonic. Wants to share with him the ugly parts of what he’d done to her; wants to tell him it’s his fault she can’t stand another man’s proximity without the feeling of entrapment overwhelming her and wants to tell him he can’t blame her for reacting in the only way her mind had been trained to protect her.

She wants to tell him all of this so they can find a way to make it better.

_Together_.

But right now is not the time, nor the place, to open up and heal old wounds. 

Not when they have their daughter to protect.

She will always come first to the both of them.

 “I want this,” she whispers, curling herself tighter around him before giving into her instincts and grazing the bridge of her nose against his throat, not stopping until her mouth is pressing a kiss on the stubble of his well-defined jaw. His breath hitches and his hands still and it’s her turn to comfort him with careful caresses when she buries herself into the juncture between his shoulder and neck. “I want all of it. Just… give me some time.”

He doesn’t hesitate.

“Princess, you can take everything.”

…

She wakes up to a whispered, “ _Mommy_ ” right against her ear.

Grace is wide awake, curled up on her side and facing Kate as her tiny and nimble fingers play with a lock of her hair. Seth is still sound asleep on their daughter’s other side, and she can’t help but smile at the peaceful expression on his face.

He more than deserves it.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Where are we?”

Kate blinks, taking a moment to think of a reasonable answer that will satisfy her little girl’s curiosity. She settles for as close to the truth as she can manage. “We’re at your Uncle Freddie’s house.”

“Who’s Uncle Freddie?” she questions, scrunching up her eyebrows letting her head fall back in a way that’s so reminiscent of Seth it’s almost laughable, as she tries to place a face to the name and fails to do so. “Is he nice?”

“He’s very nice,” Kate reassures her, having absolutely no doubts that Grace would be able to win the lonely man over before the day was over. “He’s going to help your daddy and I with a little problem we have.”

Grace angles her head to look at Seth, a wide smile on her pretty face when she turns back to her mother. She shuffles closer, tucking herself into Kate’s side and giggling joyfully when her fingers start brushing back the silky strands of her black hair.

“I like him,” she whispers, before a wavering flicker of doubt crosses through her mind. “Do you think he likes me, too?”

“Oh, baby,” Kate sighs, leaning forwards to whisper back just as conspiratorially as Grace had. “Your daddy already loves you so much, and he would do absolutely anything for you. You don’t ever have to worry about that.”

“He loves you, too.”

And there are those words again, taunting her in a way that’s borderline cruel – mocking her for her cowardice to face the truth.

Grace is still expecting an answer. 

“Of course he does,” her voice is flippant and confident, latching onto the reality she knows and shoving every other conflicting feeling away for the moment. It’s still not the time for that particular talk. “I’m part of his family, and there’s nothing that Seth loves more than family.”

At least her daughter is satisfied with her response, if the wide grin on her face is anything for Kate to base herself on.

“Can we keep him?”

She’s using the exact same tone she’d used when she’d conned her into letting her keep the kitten they’d rescued in the park – a mixture of hope and determination but overall excitement at the prospect of watching their tiny family grow and Kate doesn’t think she’d be able to say _no_ even if they hadn’t been making such a concrete effort to learn how to be better for their daughter _and_ each other all along.

“I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me,” a hoarse and sleep-ridden voice interrupts them.

Both pairs of green eyes turn to look at Seth as he shifts around on his side to face them, reaching up to tickle her belly until Grace erupts in a fit of giggles.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he teases her, smiling when she latches onto the palm he’s using to tease her with her much smaller ones and makes a show out of comparing the difference in size. Grace lets go, lifting her palms to his face and they both watch as she uses her fingertips to trace and memorize every crook and angle on it – from the bridge of his nose to the arch of his cheekbones to the slant of his jaw – waiting perfectly still until his daughter finds what she’s searching for. 

“I look like you,” she finally declares, and Kate has never seen her look so proud of anything else in her entire life.

“You do. But you’ve got your momma’s pretty eyes. And her heart.”

“Momma says it’s what you have in your heart that matters.”

“And your momma is absolutely right,” he agrees, before glancing up at her and sending Kate his most sincere and thankful smile as he reaches across Gigi for her hand. “Which is why we’re both so lucky to have her.”

Kate takes it.

She always will.

 …

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that everyone liked the chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who's taken the time to leave me a comment or hit me up on tumblr, it is all very much appreciated! Let me know what you think about this update or if you're confused about anything and I'll do my best to clear it up!  
> Also: Grandpa Uncle Eddie is coming.  
> Also, also: let me know if you're still interested in reading a late christmas fluffy oneshot i've been working on!

**Author's Note:**

> This is weird, I know.   
> But I'm also incredibly excited to write it and try it out so I hope you guys tag along with me! I've got a solid plotline mapped out for this story but I'm interested in what you think. Let me know how you're feeling about it!


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